Day in and day out, training was all that Sozin knew. It became his lifeblood as he lived, breathed, and slept thinking about the arts. There was so much to learn that it was almost suffocating at times, but at that rate, it took him three years to finally progress enough to start learning swordsmanship and element-bending.

By now, Sozin was also beginning to get good at parkour. Running up walls and surviving deadly heights had become second nature for Sozin, but being able to kill from those positions and do it silently with a sword was even more crucial to a shinobi's skillset. New skills had to be learned on top of the old ones, and Sozin began to see exactly how what he was learning was building over previous knowledge in many ways. Despite the upsides of that, Ikijo made sure to let him know that it was important to not just focus on learning new things, but also on strengthening the old things as well because even after he had learned how to move like a shinobi, Sozin did not yet have the speed and efficiency of one. His movements were sloppy and wasteful, making them useless if he ever had to run from other ninja or shinobi hunters, but that was a fixable problem. With a little practice, the boy would be able to hone those abilities into tools that would one day save his life if they ever had to.

It was good that Ikijo knew of a place that was perfect for just this purpose. Not far from Wakota, there was an abandoned village that had long been ransacked by bandits. Although the village's buildings were in shambles, some burnt and others overgrown with foilage that had grown thick from neglect, that was fine as the buildings themselves were still intact and area offered plenty of opportunities to learn anything a shinobi would ever need to about using the environment, both natural and man-made.

"Master, if you don't mind me asking, do you have any friends?" Sozin asked as they sat in the middle of the village, huddling around a campfire surrounded by darkness. They had just finished one of their most grueling training sessions yet, so it was nice to finally take a moment to sit back and talk.

"Friends?" Ikijo sipped his steaming tea. "Not anymore I'm afraid..."

"What happened to them?"

"They're dead... They all died doing the Ministry's dirty work."

"Oh..." Sozin said sheepishly, a little astonished by the man's bluntness. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Ikijo sighed. "I want you to stop doing that," he said sternly. "You apologize too much. Like you said, you didn't know, so don't apologize if you've done nothing wrong."

Sozin met his master's eyes in silent acknowledgement.

"It's normal to be curious," Ikijo continued, "especially at your age and about people you know and care for. I don't mind telling you anyway—I like to think I've already put those demons to rest."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Sozin said.

Ikijo never failed to notice boy's considerate nature. He could be presumptuous at times, but never intentionally so. He was just a curious child.

"You should know..." Ikijo nodded a few times to reassure himself before pulling his gaze up from the ground. "It's important..." he said with quiet intensity. "Years ago, when I was young and not much older than you, three of my buddies and I went into training together under the same master. We were like any other group of friends. Things were great, and they stayed great until the four of us joined up to work for the government after mastering the arts. I was the one who suggested it. It was supposed to be easy money in a time of peace, and after 25 years we could get some land and retire comfortably as men who had done right by our country, but then the Iron War happened with Tamura and ruined all of that..." Ikijo shook his head, a pensive sadness crossing his eyes.

"It seems like you regret joining the army," Sozin asked, confused. "Isn't it good thing to serve your country?"

"I thought it would be, much like you do now, but in retrospect, I was just a boy who wanted to play war..." Ikijo took a deep breath, letting out a long, remorseful exhale. "Often, I still think back to things the army had us do as the clandestine division... I really didn't know what I was getting us into at the time... There's no honor in war—no morality to speak of even amongst your own brethren once they become desperate. When Ishida began to lose the war, I slowly began to realize that. Our superiors treated us with no respect and would send us on outlandish suicide missions deep behind enemy lines without any care for our survival. Our country never did right by us even though we served with distinction. One day, I was just the only one who happened to come back..."

Concern flickered onto Sozin's face. "Does it still bother you, master?"

"Sometimes, but not as much as it used to... In that light, I suppose it would've been better if I had never met my friends at all. They might've still been here that way, rather than having had their lives wasted so carelessly." Ikijo's eyes had fallen to the ground again. He paused to consider something else, and then spoke once more, his words foreboding as he looked up at his student who had been listening with earnest attention. "I don't know what you plan on doing with the skills I've been teaching you, Sozin—you're going to be a man and that's your life and your business—but I beg you, as your master, to at least consider my words. Don't join the army. Your life is irrelevant, and you'll be nothing more than a pawn to them. We're still losing the war, and my friends died for nothing."

"I won't. I promise..." Sozin said.

"In that case, I have nothing to worry about..." Ikijo smiled. "If you ask me, you should find work as a mercenary or hired blade. In hindsight, it's what I should've done. There's more freedom that way."

"I didn't know you had been through so much..." Sozin said. "So how did you go from being a shinobi to being a monk? Seems like an impossible transition."

Ikijo let out a few hearty laughs. Grinning, he said, "It is strange, isn't it? I can hardly believe it myself sometimes." Turning more serious, he kept going with nods of agreement, saying, "Yes... After my friends died and I realized how worthless we had been to the army—to our very own country—I chose to defect. The price for defection was being hunted down as a traitor and put to death, so I didn't have many places to go in Ishida. The monks at Senpou Temple were the only ones willing to take me in and provide refuge in exchange for my repentance. By then, I had taken so many lives in my pursuits as a shinobi... I'm surprised they let me in... It felt good to go to a place of holiness for once and ease the burden of my sins..."

Sozin's brows furrowed. "Can I say something, master, though, forgive me because it might be a bit out of place?"

"Of course. You can tell me anything," Ikijo said.

"With all due respect, I think you should take the advice that you gave me. You didn't know the war would happen. You didn't do anything wrong. I don't think you should be blaming yourself for the death of your friends. It isn't good for you to feel bad about that..."

Ikijo snorted. "It would be hypocritical of me not to take my own advice, wouldn't it? Regardless, their deaths still trouble me to no end. Hopefully never, but one day you might understand... I always feel as though I could've done something about it..." Ikijo turned away for a moment, but then he looked at Sozin again. His eyes raised, lighting up as he thought of something that had piqued his interest. "Since you've asked me a few questions, may I ask you one as well?"

"Anything, master," Sozin said.

"Why did you ask me about my friends just now?"

"Oh, that... I don't know," Sozin said. "I just figured you would be lonely always living on the outskirts of Wakota by yourself. I've never seen anyone else visit you."

"That's an interesting observation..." Ikijo noted. "Are you?"

"What?"

"Lonely?"

The question took Sozin by surprise. The tables had turned and now it was his time to talk. Not sure what to say exactly, he blinked, holding back an answer as their eyes met.

"I see..." Ikijo said in understanding. "I knew there was reason. We often notice in others what we ourselves have dealt with. Starvation can take many forms, and those are the eyes of a starving wolf if I have ever seen them."

Sozin stared into the dancing flames of the fire, his eyes narrowing in resentment of the world. "I'm not surprised you noticed. I try to hide and ignore it, but it's just a part of who I am now."

"I'm worried about you, my boy. I've never given you a schedule, and yet, you come to me to train every day, from sunrise to sundown. It isn't healthy. Devotion is good, but I've never seen you show interest in anything else other than training."

"That's because I don't have anyone or anything else," Sozin murmured. His words turned dark like black ice. "What else is out there for me? My family?" he chuckled morbidly, sucking in a troubled breath through his teeth. "You'd think they would love me, that they'd be the first people to, and yet they don't... My own father never even gave me the time of day, but you, a goddamn stranger, did. Isn't that crazy?" Sozin touched the corners of his eyes with the pad of his finger in attempt to block the water that was starting to well up. His face contorted like he couldn't fathom what he was actually saying. "Even my brothers too—I used to think that they loved me, even as they beat me up because I wanted to believe so bad..." he croaked tremulously. "It took me longer than it should've to realize that they never did."

Ikijo seemed to be at a loss for words. After a heavy moment of meeting Sozin's desolate gaze, he wrapped a fatherly arm over the boy's shoulder and pulled him closer. "Your life has not been easy. You struggle, and yet, you are still here... That shows you are stronger than most."

"I don't want to be strong as much as I just want to be happy," Sozin said dejectedly.

"And you will be both," Ikijo said, hoping to cheer the boy up. "Tell me, have you ever wanted to double jump before?"

"Double jump?" Sozin wasn't sure what his master was talking about.

"You've been learning airbending from me, haven't you? I've studied the elements all my life, Sozin, and if I have learned anything from them, it's that they are the key to certain abilities that shinobi can use to do many things, even the impossible..." he intoned. "You should get some sleep and replenish your energy because tomorrow morning I'm going to teach you your first forbidden technique."

"What? Are you serious?" Sozin said in excitement.

"Yes," Ikijo grinned, rubbing the boy's shoulder. He pointed at himself with his thumb. "Tomorrow, you will learn how to jump on air itself. And this is a technique that not even the greatest shinobi could possibly know because I made it up myself!"

"No way! Did you make a scroll?" Sozin clenched both of his fists. He started running his mouth at light speed. "Where's the scroll so I can see what we're going to be doing?"

"There is no scroll, and I don't want there to be one," Ikijo said. "I'm going to pass this technique down to you through training and word of mouth only. Since I am entrusting you with this knowledge, should you happen to become a teacher yourself one day after I show it to you, you must promise to pass it down only to those worthy and in the same way I did."

Sozin never promised to do anything faster in his life. He almost didn't fall asleep in anticipation of the next day.

Learning the elements was one of Sozin's favorite parts of training. With element-bending came the opportunity for Ikijo to incorporate all manner of new skills into Sozin's arsenal and a history lesson sprinkled in here or there. In the beginning of warfare, the very first shinobi quickly realized that, unlike samurai, the covert nature of their tasks often required them fight while outnumbered or at a significant disadvantage, so this conundrum resulted in the pioneering of a completely new discipline that came to be known as ninjutsu. There were many ninjutsu techniques designed to exploit any gained advantage into an even bigger one to help tip the scales in a shinobi's favor such as wreathing one's blade in an opponent's blood to extend its reach or even creating a cloud of smoke from the spraying blood of your victim so you can disengage. All of these techniques required a refined understanding of the individual elements and sometimes a combination of them—water for blood and air for smoke. Unfortunately for samurai, the shame associated with such underhanded tricks meant that they were officially forbidden from studying the discipline, but in the pursuit of victory, shinobi were not bound by any abstract notions of honor and code. Still, at times, even samurai could resort to the dark arts out of desperation or indifference.

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Although one's skill in combat and in bending was essential for making a complete person, it was not the only thing that mattered to a warrior of the shadows. Stealth was also of great importance and always preferred to any direct confrontation. In fact, removing one's presence was part of what defined a shinobi. Ikijo made sure to instill this way of thinking into Sozin as shinobi should know better than any other warrior that honor was worthless to a dead man. So it was then that they came know the taste of venison on their tongue quite well. In addition to being able to practice ninjutsu techniques, some of which required live targets, deer were also great for training the boy's stealth at the same time. They were vigilant animals, more alert and with greater senses than humans as they lived constantly in the dangers of the wild, so if you could master sneaking up on a deer, you could sneak up on anyone you wanted to. At the most fundamental level, hunting an animal was no different than hunting a human, although the latter might prove to be a more intelligent and dangerous kind of prey every now and then.

Somewhere down the line, it seemed only right that Ikijo taught the boy how to kill silently to go hand in hand with what he was practicing.

"In stealth or in the heat of battle, a deathblow provides a shinobi with the chance to catch his breath and recover," Ikijo said. "After killing an enemy, one must exhale, expelling both regret and reaffirming one's core. Doing so ensures that no energy is wasted, and you can continue killing unabated should you be surrounded by more enemies," Ikijo demonstrated what he was talking about on a scarecrow. "Going through the vocal cords in the neck is always a silent kill and an instant one if you go through the spine as well, but you can aim for other areas at the risk of the target giving away your position."

There was always an element of luck associated with stealth, so getting caught or not being able to use stealth at all could be inevitable for even the best of shinobi. Knowing how fight a target head-on was always a last resort, but one that shinobi trained to ensure would not fail them. Sozin found this to be the hardest part of his training. On some days, him and his master would spar only with swords, and no shinobi tools nor ninjutsu was allowed.

In the clearing behind Ikijo's home, Sozin blocked a punishing slice that sent him skidding back. Nearly losing grip of his katana, he planted it into the dirt, slowing himself down to a quick stop as Ikijo bolted at full speed in an attempt to keep him from recovering. Struggling to keep up with Ikijo, Sozin had barely been managing any offense of his own as he was being kept on the defensive by a flurry of attacks. By the time his sword was out of the ground, Ikijo's was an inch away from grazing his neck.

"Damn..." Sozin said, nearly out of breath. He planted his hands on his knees, glancing up at his master. "How did I lose again? We've been at this for a while. You could at least let me win for once."

Ikijo's brows furrowed at such an unbelievable request. "Don't be foolish," he warned. "Your enemies won't show you any such leniency, so neither will I."

"I suppose that's true, but we're just training. Can we go back to martial arts now? I'm actually good at that, and I'm tired of swordsmanship."

"No," Ikijo cut in. "It is clear to me that you're lacking in this area. We need to work on your weaknesses."

"I get that, but we've been at it for hours, and you haven't even told me what I'm doing wrong," Sozin said.

Ikijo pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's because I was hoping I wouldn't have to!" he said scathingly. "You're missing the point of this exercise, Sozin. It isn't just to hone your swordsmanship but also to develop your battle sense. You need to develop a sense of battle so you can figure out what you're doing wrong on your own. And the other side of that is knowing what you're opponent is doing wrong as well. If you're losing a battle, who is going to point out those things? Certainly not your enemy! Certainly not me because I won't always be there! Do you understand what I am saying?"

"Yes, master," Sozin nodded meekly.

"Then tell me what you think you were doing wrong," Ikijo said.

"Well, that entire battle I barely got to attack you at all. It was just you attacking me," Sozin said.

"Exactly!" Ikijo blurted out. "So you do have some sense in you! If you knew that this whole time, then why didn't you do anything about it?"

"I didn't think I could. I barely had time to throw out an attack of my own," Sozin said.

"Nonsense!" Ikijo shot back. Sheathing his sword, he clasped his hands behind his robes and began to strut around in a lecturing manner. "What you need to do is look for openings, and shut down my momentum by forcing me to defend against attacks of your own. I was giving you plenty of opportunities to do so, but you took hardly any at all! I hope you are listening closely, Sozin, as it is of the utmost importance that you become more aggressive in your swordplay. A strong defense is important for any warrior, but the biggest mistake you can make in any battle is by playing not to lose. You need to play to win, and that means balancing risk and knowing which are the right ones to take and when to take them. Without taking risks, you will have no offense to speak of as you did just now. If it helps you to be more aggressive, think of your offense as simply a proactive defense."

"Okay... Are we going to duel again?"

"Yes," Ikijo said. "We're going to keep at it until you get it right. I don't care how long it takes or how tired you are."

Sozin groaned, but he did not falter. Despite his frustration, he had known all along that his master was right. He knew Ikijo could be strict and unceremonious at times, but the man had his best interests at heart, something that could not be said for anyone else in his life. He would follow him to the ends of the earth no matter what the man said or demanded he do, and this was no exception.

Sozin continued to fight, but he was so exhausted from defending himself that he could hardly do a thing against his master. Eventually, Ikijo landed another hefty blow onto Sozin's blocking sword, but this time, his grip wasn't enough to hold onto it and the blade went flying straight out of his hands and into the grass. Again, the boy found himself being scolded.

"Stop blocking my attacks!" Ikijo shouted as Sozin glanced over at his fallen weapon.

Sozin was more confused and surprised that his master was mad at him again than anything. "Stop blocking?" he said as he went to go pick up the sword. "What do you mean? How am I supposed to defend myself?"

"You know I am stronger than you and yet you continue to block even as your sword shakes in your hands and your arms begin to tire!" Ikijo yelled. "Against stronger opponents, strength should not be met with more strength but instead redirected like the flowing of water. You need to deflect, boy, so deflect! Force your opponent to expend the full energy of their attack into the air by deflecting it instead of stopping the attack short with a block and tiring yourself out rather than them."

"How do I do that?" Sozin asked, puzzled beyond belief. "You keep telling me to deflect, but I don't know how to, master!"

"This is something that you will have to get a hang of on your own. Listen, boy! Raise your sword and block my attack!"

Sozin did as his master asked of him and blocked an overhead. The block produced a flat, dull clang that was unpleasant to the ear.

"Now attack me and listen again!" Ikijo said.

Again, Sozin did what his master asked of him and attacked Ikijo with an overhead of his own. This time, the attack produced an almost euphoric, high-pitched ding.

"Wow! That sounds way better," Sozin said.

"You can hear the difference, can't you? Memorize it," Ikijo said. "A block produces a dull clang while the sound of a good deflect rings clear and true. If you deflect correctly, you can always win a battle in the long game by dragging out your opponent. Your enemies form and posture will begin to suffer while yours won't assuming they can't deflect your attacks as well, opening up the opportunity for a deathblow at some point. If two warriors can't get the better of each other, the fight will always come down to who has the better stamina."

The sound of deflection was slowly burned into Sozin's memory. Learning how to deflect took him a while since his swordsmanship was terrible, but time and time again, he began to hear that sound more and more during their sparring as he got a hang of how to do it. Since his master couldn't teach him directly, Sozin had to feel things out for himself. He liked the responsiveness of learning how to deflect as that distinctive sound played every time he got it right. The high-pitched shatter of metal. Perfection to the ear. It was a sign he was growing that made his neck tingle and blood rush with the high of battle after every resounding ding. Sozin's spars with his master were turning into a symphony of deathly music and their swords were the instruments of their orchestra.

With the rate at which he was progressing in most of his disciplines, Sozin's novicehood couldn't last forever. Ikijo witnessed before his very own eyes as Sozin continued to grow, not just as a warrior, but also as a person, physically and mentally. It wasn't long before six years had finally passed, and he reached the size of his master. At eighteen years old, both of them now spoke eye-to-eye.

"Sozin!" Ikijo called out.

Sozin glanced over his shoulder as he single-handedly pulled himself up onto a branch. He was in the middle of finishing his daily exercises when he saw Ikijo in the distance standing in the back doorway to his home. "Yes, master?" Sozin shouted back from the treeline.

"When you're done, come inside! I have something important to show you!" Ikijo said.

Near the end of the routine, Sozin quickly finished up his last exercise. As he walked back to the house, he had to admit that it put a smile on his face to see how much it had changed over the years. In exchange for his teachings, Sozin had helped to renovate Ikijo's home. Though it wasn't any mansion, it was bit more homely than before and no longer on the brink of dilapidation.

When he got inside, Sozin found Ikijo in his bedroom, digging through things to get something out of the closet.

"What are you looking for, master?" Sozin asked.

"Something I no longer need and think you're going to like," Ikijo said.

After a brief moment of rummaging, the old man began pulling out several pieces of clothing, building up an outfit on the futon. The first piece of the puzzle was a pair of waraji sandals and dark tabi socks—common for shinobi to wear as they were lightweight and fairly silent. The second piece to the outfit was a dark purple hakama, baggy and with black leg wraps to protect the shin and mount a trio of kunai on the outside. They were accompanied by a sash that went around the waist for holding various items and trinkets.

Recognizing the distinctive colors—purples, blacks, dark browns, and greys—Sozin began to suspect what it was that Ikijo was putting on display for him, but the next few pieces are what confirmed it. He watched eagerly with livened eyes as the outfit began to truly unfold. The third piece for the torso is what stood out the most. It came with black forearm wraps and was made up of a thin layer of sleeved mesh armor worn underneath a leather cuirass with mounting points for various accessories, and on top of that, a black and purple striped cape to hide any tools or projectiles that a shinobi would prefer to conceal from their enemy. The cape was worn down just like the rest of the garments, but it seemed to be the worst offender. Tattered all over and charred from fire at the bottom edges, it completed the look of a warrior who had gone through hell and back.

The cherry on the top for the whole outfit was the final piece—the headgear. It consisted of a hood with a metal forehead protector and cloth to cover the lower face, concealing the wearer's identity should they desire that.

"Wow..." was all Sozin could get out. He gingerly picked up a sleeve, fumbling with the fabric in his hands, feeling its scars—the memories of warfare. He was sure that there were many a story behind each scrape, cut, and mark on the outfit.

Ikijo chuckled, taking in the boy's expression with a fuzzy feeling in his heart. "This is what I wore when I was in the army," he said noddingly.

"It looks amazing..." Sozin murmured in awe. Not sure if it was appropriate to ask, his voice turned sheepish. "Can I try it on?" he asked, compelled by his desire.

"Of course! That's why I brought you here. You've earned it, and you're finally big enough for it to fit you now. I figured I'd surprise you when you were ready." Smiling, Ikijo spread his arms out wide.

"A surprise is an understatement..."

Sozin smiled, his face twisting through pain, happiness, and confusion as they embraced each other. He hugged Ikijo tightly. It was a deep hug carrying an touch of joy that reminded him of the holidays. Ikijo was only one person, but this is what it must feel like to have a family. Sozin had never felt like this before and didn't know he'd so badly needed to until now. Deep down, he felt like he was about to cry. His father had never hugged him in his life nor had anyone ever actually gotten him a gift. He closed his eyes in an attempt to appreciate the moment, trying to savor every single feeling that was raising his blood into a warmness that he wanted to just sit back and cherish forever.

"Master, I would be honored if you helped me to put it on," Sozin said, pulling away.

Ikijo patted him warmly on the shoulder with a proud grin. "The honor is all mine. You are my student after all. My one and only..."

To Sozin's surprise, when he put the gear on and especially the cape, all of it was surprisingly heavier than it looked, feeling as though it had been lined entirely with lead. Weighted upon his shoulders, the cape pressed down on Sozin in a snug, comforting way as though it was shielding him from any danger. Though heavier than he'd expected, it was certainly lighter than samurai armor, allowing for greater movement, but not so light as to offer no protection from the elements or from the heat of battle. It was quality gear, and Sozin could tell by the damage it had endured that it had served his master well.

"This is incredible..." Sozin said, getting a feel for how it felt to move his limbs around. "You must've went through so many battles with this gear."

"Indeed," Ikijo said. "And now, should you desire it, it will be yours to carry on my legacy. My bloodline may be dead, but you are the son I've always wished I had, Sozin. If you are willing, this duty shall fall upon your shoulders."

"What? You mean you're actually giving it to me?"

"I am..."

"I don't know. Is it right for me to keep this? This is your clothing after all. Your history... It's a part of who you are as a shinobi. Don't you want it for... sentimental reasons?"

Ikijo waved his hand in dismissal. "Think nothing of it," he assured. "As I've told you before, I left the life of a shinobi behind me a long time ago. This gear can no longer serve me like it once did, and it won't ever again. I see it fitting, however, that it be given to you so that it doesn't go to waste. Consider it my gift to you for all your hard work."

"Wow... Okay..." Sozin murmured, astonishment crossing his face. He wasn't quite sure how to process all this. "Thank you, master. You have no idea how much this means to me." Sozin said happily. For a moment, the delight on the boy's face remained, but then it dissipated into a pang of disappointment. This wasn't the end, was it? "So... What happens now?"

"Now..." Ikijo chuckled. He slapped the boy on the back. "Now, you can go off on your own and live your own life as I did when my master finished training me. That... or you could stay here and continue to hone your skills," he said enticingly.

"I think I'd rather stay with you," Sozin admitted. "I still have much to learn and work on."

"Those are wise words, Sozin, wise words indeed. You will go far with that attitude. Come then..." Ikijo said, moving towards the doorway. "This gear is designed to carry various weapons and accessories like the shuriken and smoke bombs we've practiced with. They're very convenient to access if you look at the spots underneath the cape. Let us spar so you can get a feel for what it's like to fight with all of that on your person."

Sozin grinned. "All right! Let's do it!"