Train under Kosuke Maruboshi -2

Day two under Kosuke's grueling training began with the same weighty turtle shell strapped to Kotetsu's back. His muscles already ached from the day before, but the harsh truth was: there would be no easing up.

The sky was dark, the air thick with humidity. Kotetsu was already exhausted as he stood in position, waiting for the first command. Kosuke's eyes flicked toward him, piercing and calculating.

"20 laps. Move."

Without hesitation, Kotetsu surged forward, the heavy turtle shell digging into his shoulders, each step a battle against his own fatigue. His legs screamed in protest as he pushed himself faster, determination burning in his chest. 

The first lap felt like an eternity. The shell dragged at him, forcing his body to move at a pace that felt unnatural. By the third lap, sweat poured down his face, mixing with the sting of exhaustion in his arms and legs. His breath came in sharp gasps, but he didn't dare slow down. Not with Kosuke watching him.

As Kotetsu rounded the fourth lap, a water whip lashed out in front of him, narrowly missing his feet. The force of it pushed him forward, but he didn't lose his stride. Instead, he pushed harder, the burning in his legs only fueling his will to finish.

Kosuke's voice cut through the air, sharp and direct. "Move faster! You can't afford to be slow. This is nothing."

The fifth lap. A water whip cracked across the back of his legs, striking with precise accuracy. It stung, but Kotetsu only gritted his teeth and pushed through it, forcing his legs to move faster. He couldn't show weakness, not in front of Kosuke.

By the time he reached lap ten, his body was screaming for a break, but Kosuke wasn't about to let him off that easy. The water whip lashed out again, striking the air around him like a predator stalking its prey. Kosuke's voice rang out once more, this time with a note of approval, though still tinged with challenge. 

"Well done. Now... stand still."

Kotetsu's body was shaking, but he took a deep breath and steadied himself. He tried to ignore the ache in his arms, his legs, but it was impossible to shut it all out. He needed to focus.

Kosuke's next command was simple: dodge.

Without warning, the first water whip shot out like a bolt of lightning. Kotetsu instinctively side-stepped, narrowly avoiding it as it cut through the air. He was ready, already on the balls of his feet, preparing for the next attack. But there was no time to relax.

Another whip came, this one aimed at his chest. Kotetsu twisted his body to the side, narrowly avoiding it by inches. Sweat trickled down his face, but he stayed focused. His heartbeat quickened, but his movements became more fluid, his senses sharper.

Kosuke stood there, unmoving, but his eyes gleamed with calculation. With every ten minutes that passed, he added another whip to the barrage. The air filled with the sound of water lashing through the night, the crackling of each strike just a heartbeat away from hitting its mark.

Kotetsu dodged. Again. And again.

By the time the fourth whip came, his movements were growing slower, more sluggish, but he kept moving, weaving around each one with desperate precision. He couldn't let up, not now.

And then, the fifth whip. Kotetsu barely managed to dive to the ground as it snapped over his head. His chest heaved with exhaustion, but his eyes locked on Kosuke. The whip had missed—barely—but he was still standing.

Kosuke's lips curled into something resembling approval. "Not bad. You've surpassed your record." 

But Kotetsu didn't have time to rest. The night was just beginning.

"Now, swords."

Kotetsu blinked, disoriented. *Swords?*

He'd been a swordsman for most of his life, but Kosuke's style was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. The man stood with an air of quiet confidence, a gleam in his eye that showed no trace of doubt. In his hands, the blade was an extension of his body, his movements precise and economical, every motion sharp and deliberate.

Kosuke drew a katana, the blade gleaming in the dim light, and Kotetsu knew this wasn't going to be a normal sparring match. This was a test.

Kosuke's movements were lightning-fast, his strikes like thunderclaps. Each slash was met with a fluid block or parry, the clash of metal ringing through the night air. Kotetsu barely had time to react, his own katana drawn and raised in defense, but it was clear that Kosuke was in a different league altogether.

The first few strikes came so quickly that Kotetsu's movements were still catching up. Kosuke's style was different from anything Kotetsu had ever been taught. It was the official style of the Second Hokage, the Senju swordsmanship—quick, adaptable, with the power to block or cut when necessary. It was a perfect mix of offense and defense, with each move flowing seamlessly into the next.

Kosuke's blade flashed forward, a quick thrust aimed at Kotetsu's side. He barely managed to deflect it, his sword trembling from the impact. The old man's eyes narrowed, a silent challenge. "Keep up."

Kotetsu's heart hammered in his chest. He had to stay sharp. He couldn't afford to falter, not against this opponent.

Kosuke's strikes became even more aggressive, the speed increasing with each exchange. Kotetsu's sword was barely able to keep up, his arms sore from the weight of the turtle shell, his body still recovering from the brutal laps and water whips. But he knew there was no retreat. Not now.

Kosuke's blade moved with terrifying precision, each strike meant to test Kotetsu's ability to read his movements, to adjust to the flow of the fight. Every time Kotetsu thought he had a moment to breathe, Kosuke was already on the next strike, the next move, never giving him a second of respite.

Kosuke's voice cut through the intensity of the fight. "Adapt, Kotetsu. You have to adapt. One move, one strike—don't think. React."

Kotetsu's muscles screamed in protest, but he could feel the fight starting to shift. His movements became more fluid, more intuitive. Kosuke's sword danced in the air like a river, always flowing, always moving. Kotetsu's blade followed suit, his parries becoming sharper, his counters more effective.

Kosuke stepped back, a faint smirk on his lips. "Good. But we're just getting started."

Kotetsu stood there, panting, his arms shaking, but there was a fire in his eyes now—a fire that Kosuke had ignited. He was ready for whatever came next.

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Main Branch Hyuga Compound

Ayane hated mornings.

Not in the way normal people did, grumbling about the cold air or the stiffness in their joints. No, her hatred was visceral, deeply ingrained, tangled up with the sharp sting of tradition and duty.

The Hyūga compound was suffocatingly pristine, a place where even the dirt seemed to have learned its place. The outer walls were high, seamless, and imposing, the kind meant to keep people in just as much as they kept people out. Within, the pathways were lined with carefully raked gravel, leading to elegant, identical buildings, their roofs sweeping gracefully as if bowing to an invisible master. Every house, every door, every goddamn tile was perfection incarnate—a silent reminder of the discipline expected of its occupants.

And she was expected to clean it.

Ayane dragged herself through the dimly lit halls, shoulders stiff with resentment. Every morning, before the sun had fully risen, she and a handful of other branch members were tasked with tending to the main branch's homes. Seventy percent of the Hyūga clan were branch members—servants, shields, sacrifices. The ratio didn't make things fairer. It just ensured there were always enough of them to suffer.

She reached the designated room and slid open the door as quietly as possible. Inside, curled up in a nest of impossibly expensive silk, was Hinata Hyūga, the six-year-old heiress of the clan. Ayane hesitated, staring down at the sleeping child. Soft breath, peaceful expression—completely unaware of the weight she would soon have to carry.

'Lucky you,' Ayane thought bitterly, though she knew better. The main branch was its own kind of cage. A gilded one, sure, but still a cage.

She knelt beside the futon and gently shook Hinata's shoulder. "Hinata-sama, it's time to wake up."

The girl stirred, blinking groggily before sitting up. Unlike Ayane, Hinata had the luxury of stretching, of rubbing her eyes like a normal child instead of being expected to snap to attention the moment she was conscious. Ayane kept her head slightly lowered, gaze averted, posture perfect.

She had learned the hard way.

Her training had started young. At first, she had been happy. Blissfully ignorant. She had been a cheerful, carefree child, running through the compound with scraped knees and laughter in her throat. Then came the curse mark.

She remembered kneeling before the elders, the weight of their expectations pressing down on her tiny shoulders. Her parents had been there too, standing behind her, their faces carved from grief and resignation.

"This is your duty," her mother had whispered before the searing pain took over.

She had screamed. She had clawed at her forehead, as if she could rip the mark off, as if she could carve her own defiance into her skin before they burned it out of her. The agony had been beyond anything she had ever known, a direct assault on her mind, her very existence.

And yet, the worst part had been afterward.

The first time she glared at a main branch member, the punishment had been swift. The curse mark activated, and her body convulsed, white-hot pain ripping through her nerves, her very blood rebelling against her. She had collapsed, writhing, teeth clenched so hard she thought they might break. When it was over, she had been dragged away, sent to a distant section of the compound. That was what happened to unruly branch members. They were exiled within their own home.

But she had learned. She had forced herself to bow her head, to bite her tongue, to hide her hatred behind a carefully crafted mask. And because of that, she was allowed to serve the main branch directly. She was one of the 'lucky' ones.

Her mother told her it used to be worse. That the main branch had once used their power to take multiple wives, to demand complete subservience in every way imaginable. "Things are better now," she had said, smiling in that empty way she always did.

Ayane wasn't sure if she believed her. Her mother had been broken long ago, molded into the perfect servant. Her father, on the other hand, still had fire in his eyes. But even he bowed his head, if only to keep them safe.

Ayane thought of Kotetsu then. Of the way he had bowed his head so perfectly, of how she had laughed at the sight of it. It had been funny, in a twisted way. But deep down, she felt… conflicted. She had enjoyed it. That was what unsettled her most. Because wasn't that exactly what the main branch felt all the time? Watching others bow, feeling that flicker of superiority, that reinforcement of the power disparity? The thought made her sick.

The clan was stifling. A beautifully decorated cage where the strong stayed behind to protect the weak, where the branch house existed solely for the whims of the main branch. Missions were rare for the Hyūga. Many stayed within the compound, doing whatever the main branch deemed necessary—washing clothes, cooking, cleaning, babysitting, providing security, entertaining, being punching bags. Being slaves.

It was no wonder so many sought to escape. Missions, no matter how dangerous, offered freedom. And that was why Ayane had signed up for something as mundane as gate duty.

Because it got her out.

And she liked it.

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The next Day

On the weekend, Kosuke's training pushed Kotetsu into new territory—this time, it wasn't just the physical strain of weight training and swordsmanship. It was time to focus on ninjutsu, specifically Water Release. The sun had just risen, casting a warm orange glow across the training field, as Kosuke led Kotetsu through the first stages of mastering the element.

Kosuke stood in front of Kotetsu, his eyes glinting with a quiet challenge. "Water is more than just an element—it's about flow, adaptability, and control. Let's begin with the basics: chakra control."

Kotetsu nodded, his body already sore from the previous days of training, but there was no choice now. He would push through.

"Sit down. Meditate," Kosuke ordered, settling into a cross-legged position himself.

Kotetsu complied, his legs stiff as he folded them beneath him. Kosuke, seeing his struggle, didn't comment. Instead, he demonstrated the posture, eyes closed and hands resting on his knees. Kotetsu mirrored the stance, letting his breathing slow as he focused inward.

"Focus on your chakra," Kosuke's voice was calm, like a ripple in a pond. "Feel it, visualize it. Imagine it moving through your body—like water flowing through channels."

Kotetsu's breath steadied, his mind trying to push away distractions. It was a new experience, feeling his chakra more intimately, visualizing it as a fluid force that could ebb and flow through his body. He wasn't used to thinking of chakra in this way, and yet, Kosuke's instructions felt right.

His chakra, swirling inside of him, felt like it was being gently pulled by the current, flowing from his core, out to the tips of his fingers. The image of water, fluid and free, gave him a sense of purpose. Slowly, he felt the familiar warmth of chakra, pulsing through him in a soft rhythm.

Kosuke watched silently, nodding slightly in approval. "Good. Now, shift to focusing on water." He raised a hand, moving it through the air like a gentle wave. "Your chakra must match the flow of water. It doesn't push or force; it follows, adapts."

Kotetsu took a deep breath, trying to apply the image of water to his chakra control. It wasn't easy. Water, in all its forms, was adaptable—but his chakra was stubborn, fierce, unyielding. Yet, with Kosuke's guidance, he slowly started to feel his chakra bend to his will, as if the flow had smoothed out, allowing his chakra to follow the pattern of water.

"Now," Kosuke said, "let's move to the next phase."

By midday, Kotetsu's body was tired, but Kosuke wasn't letting up. After focusing on chakra control, it was time to work on physical conditioning, something that was integral to water jutsu. Kosuke led him through a series of fluid movements and breathing exercises, demanding perfect synchronization of body and breath.

"Water Release relies on fluidity, Kotetsu. Your body needs to move like water. Flexible, adaptable. You need to be able to move your chakra through your body smoothly, without restriction."

Kosuke guided him through stretches, followed by deep breathing. Kotetsu found himself growing more in tune with his body, his movements becoming smoother and more natural as the training progressed. Every stretch was a reminder that water was not just the element he was learning to control—it was a part of his body now, blending into every movement.

Afterward, Kosuke had Kotetsu do chakra-enhanced running drills, building his chakra reserves. The goal was to run while circulating chakra throughout his body, giving him both stamina and control. Kotetsu felt the strain immediately. His legs were already sore from the turtle shell, but now he had to power through, focusing on maintaining chakra flow even as exhaustion crept in.

Kosuke stood at the edge of the field, watching intently. "Your reserves are growing. That's good. You'll need them for the techniques that come next."

The afternoon brought a shift in focus: learning the basics of Water Release. Kotetsu was still adjusting to the idea of using chakra for water manipulation, but he was ready. Kosuke instructed him to gather chakra into his mouth, much like a simple water bullet technique.

"Let the chakra flow in and out, like the rhythm of the tide," Kosuke murmured. "You must learn to control its flow."

Kotetsu focused, drawing the chakra into his mouth. For a moment, nothing happened. He clenched his jaw, frustrated, but Kosuke's calm voice reminded him, "Patience."

He exhaled slowly, gathered more chakra, and with a controlled push, he exhaled a small jet of water. It was weak, but it was there—proof of progress. Kosuke nodded slightly. "It's a start. You'll need more control, more force, but it's not bad."

The sun dipped low in the sky as the day wore on, and Kosuke brought out more advanced techniques. The Great Waterfall and Tidal Wave techniques, massive, imposing, and requiring immense chakra manipulation, were next on the agenda. Kotetsu had to summon vast amounts of water and control its flow with precision. The sheer scale of the techniques made Kotetsu's head spin, but he practiced with an intensity that would've surprised even him just a few days ago.

Finally, as the evening set in, Kotetsu stood, dripping with sweat, muscles aching from the day's rigorous training. Kosuke was right beside him, looking over his progress.

"You're doing well," Kosuke said, his voice carrying a rare note of approval. "But the real challenge is ahead. Water is more than just a tool for offense. It's about control of your environment. Being able to manipulate it in combat, to use it both defensively and offensively. The true mastery comes when you can pull water from your surroundings."

Kotetsu nodded, wiping his brow. He had a long way to go, but with Kosuke's guidance, he felt more confident. The work was grueling, the sweat and fatigue constant companions, but the results were beginning to show. This was only the beginning of his journey toward mastering Water Release.

Kosuke turned to leave, a knowing smile on his lips. "Rest up tonight. Tomorrow, we continue."

Kotetsu stood still for a moment, feeling the weight of the training behind him, and the challenge that lay ahead. He would push through. This wasn't just about his survival—it was about becoming the best, and that meant mastering everything Kosuke had to teach him.