23 Cult of Desperation

Nagisa crumpled down into a heap of strained muscles and broken bones. Her breathing was accompanied by frantic heaves and audible gasps. Even a mouthful of air was too much for her lungs to handle. 

She'd been in this shape before and preferred the feeling of complete exhaustion. She felt most at ease in a situation where instinct was the only thing that mattered. 

It was what kept her on top. 

Her point was repeatedly demonstrated that it was the only thing keeping her alive. 

She shifted her relatively calm gaze to her right and stared directly at the current object of her disdain. 

A kunai, an unassuming item, sat deep in the bark where she planted it. She needed it in her direct line of sight while training, mostly as a form of nonverbal motivation. A reminder that her advancements were directly proportional to how well she adapted in combat situations. 

A lifeless stick of metal was enough of a reminder of her shortcomings. 

If she had been up against an active enemy, that same kunai could have killed her. They would not have given her the opportunity to change her mind, let alone monologue in the manner that Kobaru did. The moment they gained the upper hand, it would have been metal to skull. 

Fortunately, she was wary of being duped twice with the same trick. 

She liked sparring with the younger shinobi solely. The boy never stopped coming up with new ways to do simple things. 

Nonetheless, she couldn't help but feel that she had taken her cell too lightly. Allowing her superior knowledge to be dumbed down for people who were simply worse shinobi. Not bad, but worse. It had only taken her two months for their faulty intuition to infect her as well. 

No good deed was spared. 

Her development was stifled in exchange for making her team better equipped. 

She could only hope that someway somehow, she could evolve her techniques to further the gap that Kobaru seemed to close every spar. 

Perhaps another technique could be used to create separation. Anything that could propel her further ahead. 

She would go to any length to see her progress. 

Unfortunately, she was deeply rooted in her own reality and knew that the only way to reclaim her superiority would be to work until her face was completely white. 

As her breathing finally slowed, she sighed to herself. Then she rose once more to begin another round against the tree. 

No amount of pain or bloody knuckles could stop her from progressing. She would make sure of that. 

XxX

Chusei believed that he had done well pretending that he had no care for his newfound ink.  

Days had passed, and he had successfully resisted the underlying urge to inform everyone that he was carrying a seal. This was mostly due to the numerous distractions he created for himself. Many distractions, encapsulated by his two cell mates' competitive back and forth. 

Sure, it was a little boring, but the arrival of Kobaru and Nagisa added a level of intensity that made everything feel like a matter of life and death. When they weren't doing personal training or attempting to maim each other, that is. They were inhaling soup at the ramen shop or attempting to get as close to being thrown out of the library without being thrown out. 

The simple yet overwhelming joys of youth. 

Moments such as those would remind him that he was almost four years older than Nagisa. 

When allowed freedom from the duo's thrilling episodes. He stayed at home staring at himself in the mirror. Hours spent moving his chakra around in attempts to arouse the seal and draw energy from it. He tried for days and all he got was nausea and a mild case of vertigo. 

He tried not to question himself about things he knew he couldn't answer. Still, his mind could not forfeit the thought of who would put the seal on him and, more importantly, what was on the other side of the swirling lines. 

Most of his self-questioning fell flat. For one he could barely read as is, so successfully decoding the integers scrawled over his body was a mindless expectation. 

Those questions were obligatory, and he wanted answers. Yet he found that there was no one he trusted enough to help him. Nohara-sensei was essentially his only adult companion, but the man was a hardass and appeared to play by the book. If he was to find out, then Chusei would have ANBU trailing him for weeks. 

Those bastards were always watching from somewhere and he preferred not to be peeped on. 

This first time in his life he has a clear idea of what he wants to know, but no idea of how to accomplish it. 

Upon entering The Factory for the first time in almost two weeks. His morals were flipped on its head, as the once populous room was now lonely and empty. 

The dossiers of only thirteen Genin had prompted him of the remaining reserves. Yet thirteen people on paper looked a lot more than thirteen people in a classroom. 

To make matters worse, with personnel lost, it would be up to the survivors to pick up the slack. Chusei had struggled to carry his own weight since the beginning of the reserves. That is why he collaborated with others to improve his chances of success. Even so, he was only able to throw Nagisa and Kobaru at his problems. He was now expected to work hard enough for two shinobi while barely meeting the expectations of one. 

He ultimately settled on not thinking about his impending struggle and instead sought to distract himself. Eventually settling on the Jonin charged with the reserve's quality control.  

Said jonin, chose to stand at the front of the room with his special brand of silence. His head swept from side to side as he scanned the populace. An uneasy glare with one slightly slanted eyebrow, that conveyed both the feeling of disappointment and indifference. 

Thankfully he granted them a break from his staring with a simple request, "I want you maggots to look 'round for a second." 

The Genin quickly complied with awkward head swiveling, making even the slightest amount of eye contact uncomfortable. Chusei looked at Nagisa who made no attempt to hide her disinterest in the exercise. Then turned to Kobaru whose pupils always made it hard to maintain eye contact. 

"See those empty seats," Nohara pointed out the purpose of his initial request. Leading everyone to swivel once more, "those are comrades we failed to protect." 

Chusei swallowed what appeared to be his tongue, disappointed in his poor showing of camaraderie. He had believed himself to be a well-rounded individual. Yet he assumed moral superiority until his ignorance was pointed out. Not only had he not given any of his classmates the time of day. He managed to convince himself that they didn't exist. Then followed that up by being self-righteous. 

Only narcissists, and Nagisa, could develop a justified excuse for such behavior. 

"Since day one we've worked on trying to increase the quantity of our ranks," Nohara switched topics without warning, "I take it you've realized we no longer have quantity. So, from today onward quality is the only thing that'll cut it. And I mean if you can't get up to speed, I will beat you until you are." 

Collective groans and sighs were released as they foresaw the abuse. 

"For the next week you're gonna be split into three groups. Each group will work within one of the three major fields. I didn't line you up on skill. Otherwise, most of you would be punching sandbags 'til your wrist hurt. So, it's based on your sitting arrangement with Uppity maggot as number one," Chusei glanced at Kobaru, "that's right carrot. You and your right-hand man are in two different groups." 

"Can we switch," Chusei asked then raised his hand. 

In response Nohara-sensei decided to hold a silent staring contest with the boy. Allowing him to reflect on his question as they stared for longer than any person should be used to. 

Chusei shifted his posture uncomfortably before voicing his compliance, "I'll keep my mouth shut." 

"Great," the jonin scanned the class, "I take it you can all count to three," he paused to glare at Chusei who rolled his eyes in exasperation, "So, Group one will be taijutsu focused." 

Chusei looked to the reserve's best shinobi, then counted down the row until he landed on himself. 

"C'mon I can't do spars with Nagisa. I mean look at her" Chusei cried pointing to the focus of his critique. Said focus continued staring ahead indifferent to all the eyes that were now staring at her, "Who knows what's goin' on in that head." 

Nohara-sensei responded with more uncomfortable staring. Chusei immediately got his point. 

"This time I'll keep my mouth shut." 

"Try harder," Nohara sighed with a slight shake of his head, "Group Two will be Genjutsu and Three will be Ninjutsu. If you have questions shove it up your ass, then meet me in the back when you figure yourselves out." 

With that Nohara-sensei disappeared in a puff of smoke. 

"Sitting next to you brings me nothing but good luck," Kobaru nudged Chusei. The little cat eyed devil marred his features with a grin, "for that I thank you." 

"Sitting next to you gives me nothing but headaches," Chusei threw his head back in an exaggerated display before turning his frame to face the younger boy, "okay so here's the plan you'll get a clone, and we'll disguise him to look just like me. Then- " 

"Not this time," Kobaru interrupted wagging his finger in Chusei's face with a bit more sass than he should be capable of, "I waited for this moment my entire life. I can't afford to pity you," Kobaru took to his feet with enthusiasm bleeding from his tone. 

"Your entire life is like six years long," Chusei countered. 

"Touché," Kobaru nodded at the jab then sighed, "but making someone think their ass is on fire, is way better than getting mine handed to me by Nagisa." 

Chusei's now ex best friend then took his leave through the only exit in the room. He tracked his relatively tiny head as he bobbed gleefully. He had never hoped that someone accidently trapped themselves in genjutsu before but imagining it helped him come to terms with reality. 

"Alright carrot!" Nagisa asked now standing over Chusei with her arms folded, "offense or defence take your pick." 

Chusei sighed as loudly as he could without it being classified a cry for help. He lazily pulled his weight into a stance and looked down at his fellow Genin, "does it really matter?" 

"Perhaps," Nagisa appeared to put thought into his question. She silently nodded to herself as she met a conclusion. One that appeared to be pleasant enough to leave her grinning, "Try to fight back this time." 

XxX 

The Art of Eight Limbs. 

It was the fairy-tale stance of all taijutsu enthusiasts. 

Growing up, Nohara had heard countless stories about it. He also had the misfortune of battling one of Nagi Island's best. He regretted his decision after two swings into the spar. 

He had heard that the style had been developed years before the warring states existed. A prominent style used by fishermen during the peasant revolution. Something that sounded truthful enough that it could be spread with biblical confidence. It was said that all of the island's inhabitants were taught as soon as they could hold their heads up. A choreography engrained into the movements of all residents and permeated the very way they conducted themselves. 

Not unlike the Hyūga's Juuken, it was a quick style of almost imperceivable strikes. Heavily focusing on dismantling opponents, stripping them down with solid elbow and knee strikes. 

Where the Juuken sought to beat your muscles and put tenketsu out of commission. The Art of Eight Limbs targeted the bones in an overt attempt to dislocate every joint in your body. 

No matter how sharp your blade or impenetrable your defence. If you were standing within kicking distance making peace with your god was the only encouraged option. 

With such level of effectiveness came an equal level of arrogance.  

The small island seemed to be more adept at making enemies because of it. Refused to supply aid during the first war, deeming it a waste of resources. Five years later they rejected the proposal to move their residents to the mainland. Followed that up by rejecting refugees from the Land of Water, stating that they rid the island of rats decades ago and had no interest in taking in any. 

To make matters worse they ignored long distance attacks fully depending on their hand-to-hand combat. Making it almost laughable when they tried defending against Kiri's surprise attack of the third war. 

The island was flooded and by the time the mist cleared only a handful of survivors were left. 

He thought he would never see the style again. 

Yet here was a child with only seven years of experience thoroughly kicking the asses of Genin almost four years her senior. 

Nagisa was the best in her class. Nohara knew that much. She was granted early promotion being ranked second best among the nominees, with only an Uchiha child ahead of her. She was gifted with sound resolution and a seemingly boundless lack of emotion that made her unnaturally efficient. 

Even from his point of view she was emotionless to a psychotic degree. 

He heard that she was selected for an actual jonin sensei. Matched with an Inuzuka and a Hyūga, they were a hunter-nin trio in the making. It was a gift for most. 

The report stated that she beat the bell test retrieving both from the jonin after a five-minute scuffle. Left the sensei sitting on his ass with his jaw agape. Yet instead of offering the bells to her team she tossed it at her downed sensei and walked off to the side. 

An undisputed automatic failure. 

So here she was sharing a Jonin's attention with an entire classroom. 

Nohara believed that if she had an ounce of humility during the bell test. Maybe then she would have a career of guaranteed success. 

Thanks to the likes of carrot and cat, she was becoming a better person. Now if Nohara could somehow get her to stop grinning during her fights. Then she would be the perfect shinobi. 

Once it came to throwing punches the girl almost always adopted what could only be described as a failed attempt at smiling. Eyes wide, eyebrows motionless with her teeth bared for all to see. 

It was without a doubt an unsettling expression to face. 

He had hoped that maybe if he made it her versus the other four then they would increase their odds of success. Perhaps get dropped, realize their errors then sink back into the fight. Yet nothing appeared to be working on the girl. 

Even after handicapping her with no hits to the head and allowing them to use several weapons. She was still, quite efficiently, kicking their ass. 

Nohara's thoughts constantly swung between the practice actually helping the less fortunate Genin and fear that Nagisa might break an arm that doesn't belong to her. 

From where he stood in the shade, he could see the other four lose the grip on their countenance. Every failed counterattack seemed to chip away a block of self-confidence. After half hour of throwing shit at the wall it was a miracle that their will to continue wasn't completely dried up. He smirked to himself as Chusei tried desperately to maintain the groups moral as they vaulted towards the blue haired menace once more. 

She had already poked holes in their defence before they were in striking distance. Quickly launching her plan into motion and dispatching her opponents only leaving one standing. 

Chusei stared back at the girl his breathing a clear sign that he was already more than exhausted but still couldn't bring himself to throw in the towel. 

Nohara shook his head at how willing the boy was to throw himself at problems. 

The last time they sparred Nohara had to deflect a hurled fireball. A technique that caught everyone by surprise and almost left the girl with a nasty scar. 

Thankfully that appeared to be the last trick that Chusei had up his sleeve, so Nohara took it upon himself to end their misery. 

"Okay Nagisa," he landed in the clearing between the girl and her next prey, "you've proven our point." 

"Wait come on we can't be done, this one would have worked for sure," one of the Genin leapt from the ground more energy than he was showing a minute prior. 

"Yeah sensei, she was totally buying the pretend exhaustion bit," Another piped up a rotten scowl on her face, "Carrot had the whole thing planned perfectly. You messed up or shot." 

Nohara paused to properly observe the situation. 

Realizing that he was indeed foiling another attack he decided that he could never be wrong. Quickly countering the cries for injustice. 

"Well maybe next time you'll get your plans in motion a lot quicker," He shrugged at the Genin before turning his back to them. 

"We can't be talking about the same person," Chusei took rushed steps towards Nohara. His statement emphasized by his angry bounding, "you just made it harder for us to get her next time. I mean look at her." 

The boy pointed to her only making a slight glimpse to ensure he was indeed pointing at his target., "she is literally the phrase fool me once. She's taking mental notes as we speak." 

Nohara gently grabbed the boy by his unoccupied arm. Chusei jumped at the sudden contact but quickly pretended as though nothing happened. 

"I believe in your ability as a shinobi." 

"Uh," Chusei craned his neck and awkwardly threw glances at the other children in the clearing, "thanks?" 

"Great now line up!" He turned his attention to the four other Genin, "now that I know you guys have better endurance than I thought," he paused to give them each a heavy glare, "we're drilling kata 'til your arms pop off." 

This was met with audible sighs of displeasure. Exactly the kind of reaction he expected them to give. 

Music to his ears.