Introit: The Return

Haijō figured it was mid-October and snow would be coming soon.

The rain pounded upon the earth with great impunity as if affronted that the world would dare be dry for even a single moment. As if the son was as demure as a schoolgirl with childish wonders and the dark clouds overhead was the father, towering above the sordid child with sickeningly sweet and fake smile. These were the thoughts Haijō had been having for the past week as it had refused to stop raining; in the night the rain seemed to intensify and become so great that his mind began to wander. As of now, the now sixteen year old stood in a dilapidated cabin that was a modest four walls of wood, constantly creaking and straining to resist the weather outside. The walls echoed every so often and the single flame in the middle of the cabin refused to break the darkness that clouded the corners of the cabin.

As his mind went down this road, his mind veered to his life thus far, more specifically, his training up till this point. When he was recruited into The Orphanage his experience with training had been a lot more hands off, his ANBU sensei (if you could even call them that) were cruel sadists. Living conditions in The Orphanage were dirt-ridden barracks scarce of happiness. They said everyone living together was to increase cohesiveness and camaraderie among the populace. But I digress, training was...different, as was teaching. They taught me things, then trained me on them with a very hands-off, yet disturbingly sadistic way. For example, they would lecture me about how ration bars saved lives and then proceed to not feed me for two weeks, talk about how behind enemy lines one couldn't use their chakra for certain things such as fire, and then abandon me in a frozen tundra with chakra suppressors forcing me to use flint or waterproof matches, or tell me about how important it was to have a water purification tablets and then leave me stranded in the desert for a few days without food or water. Survival exercises was apparently common for five year old children to practice according to Ei.

Needless to say, I would never forget their lessons, nor the ones regarding surviving torture/interrogation situations....

It was that type of training; which basically trained me around stealth, assassination, information-gathering, trap-making, and other basic needs for survival such as not to rely on a basic henge and at times, apply make-up, contacts, or other assortments. The only actual combat training we went through revolved around kenjutsu and genjutsu. Additionally, we were actually taught very little chakra-based exercises aside from learning our nature transformation and enhancing physical ability with chakra; something of which was quite difficult with the constant experiments preformed on our chakra coils and tenketsu and the lack of control exercises. But hell, that was just training, the torturing experience, which admittedly, left me scarred for life, was the field test and mental conditioning.

Haijō stopped himself. He did notwant to think about that anymore. He thought about his meeting with Tōme and the subsequent training and missions done along with Kill Unit Shintogo. He was fond of them that was for sure; not so much as to call them family, but definitely the closest thing he had to normal shinobi relationships. Shintogo was the kind, yet often stern realist father who could have fun but get shit done when required of him; Suzume was the logical thinking medic who could be as broody as hell sometimes, but was nice once you got to know her. Tōme had to be the kindest; she gave him solace in a house and comfort, plus she was crude and often spoke the brutal honesty, traits of which he admired. Training with them was more specified and simple then before, not as tough, but definitely difficult.

For example, Tōme once had him balance multiple objects on him while defending himself in a running battle with multiple attackers struck from different angles or climbing mountains during snowstorms, both of which increased his chakra control exponentially. He did other things of that like with Shintogo who had him practice kenjutsu kata consistently atop turbulent streams or Suzume who helped him work on his nature transformation. It was a more hands-on, and honestly pleasant experience. Plus, it was a great change from the detached manner in which his sensei's at The Orphanage taught him.

They were still slave drivers though. Basically, free time was absent with those fuckers. And when on leave from active duty they often preformed simulation exercises that helped them in real scenarios; similar 'simulations' that made even ANBU trainee think twice. But, alas, his final teacher had been, to put it in one word, impossible.

The Former Guardian of Kumogakure. The Great Rapper of Lightning Country and The Fantastic Master of the Hachibi - Killer Bee. He was the second most powerful and wisest shinobi in the country, having gained experience from two wars and fought his fair share of S-rank shinobi and survived with minimal ease. That was his sensei. And by far, his best to be far. Despite what many would say about running off into battle with valor and heroism; that was a damn lie. Shinobi are not Samurai, and we cheat, something that Killer Bee could relate to along with me. He related to my self-hate and guilt, which stemmed from my parents, in which I gained my motivation for becoming powerful, and eventually, a shinobi. He connected to me like no one else had or could for that matter, but I hated that sympathetic eye he would always glance my way.

Regardless, of how much I kept him at arms-length due to his damnable pity, he trained me exceptionally, almost like his own son. He made a mediocre Chūnin with a great mind for traps and earth release into a complete monster when on-and-off the battlefield, in my humble opinion. I could never, and still can't defeat him no matter how many times I tried to do so but thats beside the point. What made me strong was the simple fact that he was real.

I figured that because he was never a teacher before, when he became one he took it very seriously, and trained me relentlessly to do what he could not: end the civil war by murdering his brother, Ei. Every day was a battle with such a sense of urgency that I could not help but become stronger, and by extension, smarter. After all when you're tasked with withstanding an onslaught, (which Killer Bee incorrectly labeled a full-on spar) with a Jinchūriki with perfect control over his Bijū you naturally learn to deal with a few Jōnin.

Compared to his latest sensei, every enemy had dulled senses, slow reaction times, diminished strength and a lack of chakra. Speaking of chakra, as I quickly found out, due to the experiments on those at The Orphanage my chakra capacity will continue to grow which forces me to constantly improve my control. I was mildly displeased once I learned such but easily got over it once I began the daunting training regime had had began for me.

For the past two and a half years, training with an S-rank shinobi had been eye-opening to say the least. However, Haijō's train of thought was abruptly cut off when thunder boomed overhead and he winced and instinctively moved closer to the contained fire in the middle of the cabin. "I'm sorry for being late." He stated belatedly, following a pregnant pause that left him feeling a tiny bit depressed. However, his mind quickly took a one-eight and his voice became a sing-song manner, "I was late. The war began without me and now I have to end a civil war, kill a former Raikage, become a Kage myself, and unite an entire country." He grinned casually, "better late than ever though, I guess."