Mind, body and heart.

Alright, so apparently I lied.  There's still some juice in the tank.  I am vividly aware now that this story is rather disjointed.  I wish I could do better, but I'll focus on what comes to me for now.

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“Stealth, Insight, Awareness.  Ninja must be of sound mind, strong enough to overcome the deceptions brought on by the enemy.”  The instructor rolled his eyes dramatically, “Those brought on by themselves as well.  In this, controlling your chakra is paramount.  For every piece you slack off the enemy will take advantage, manipulating you against your own.”

“You must be aware not only of your own body, but your surroundings.  Your comrades, enemy, the number of leaves on the ground, everything.”

~Be greedy.  Gather everything under the banner of your presence.  Be controlling.  Don’t let your attention waver, or take your range of focus for granted.  Be paranoid.  Respectful the uncertainty, with every bit of distance it deserves.  Know the strengths of your lord, your self, and your company.~

“Today's focus will be on stealth.  You will each be given a flag and a number.  You have three minutes to reach the location marked with your number.  For every flag you can identify along the way, you gain a point.  For every time your flag is identified, you lose two points.  If you falsely identify a flag, you lose five points.  Now, once you get your flag and number, you’ll make your way to a post with your number on it.  When you hear an explosion, the test begins.  You don’t want to know what happens if you’re late.  Now get moving!”

The first day was a disaster.  People got lost on their way to the desks.  Dozens of flags were spotted before the test even started - more on that later, and a fraction of the class made it to their marker before the time expired.

Remember that comment about losing the most points after mistaking a flag?  Well the tags started out as simple colors.  Bright reds, blues, yellow, you name it.  Those who weren’t paying attention missed when their own tags gained patterns as soon as the explosion went off.

Day one scores were abysmal, and it turned out those who failed to make it in time were put on a ‘wanted list’.  Worse still, every point in the negative meant another person waiting in the woods, tracking the ‘sneak’ down.  Moving target practice.  Failure meant that you were a spare target for every ‘watcher’ out there.

The flags made us out to other ‘sneaks’.  Numbers put us on the snipers’ hit list.

There was a hailstorm of paint coated steel knobs the week after.  Precious few could afford to go out of their way searching for tags, and those that could were wise enough to avoid clouds of steel.  Those that hadn’t wised up…  well, you either had exceptional evasion or came back black and blue.

The steel cloud had a silver lining though.  The snipers wore flags too.  People who gained abysmal scores elsewhere could redeem themselves by studying the less mobile snipers.

Provided they were effective runners to begin with, and willing to work around the belt of steel headed their way.  Without those flags, coming out with a positive score would have been impossible.  That also meant that someone somewhere always had a sniper gunning for them.

The end goals were spread among a series of flagpoles.  Each one changed location randomly, so a given person took a different path each day.  There was a danger there too, because while your peers couldn’t get points for your flag upon arrival, those gathered at other flagpoles had no such limitations.  Once you arrived at the right flagpole, you were safe.

Stop short of the right flagpole and you were doomed.  Again, failures enjoyed the company of every sentinel in the forest.

Of course, that wasn’t the only exercise we had.  Each one of us was tasked with running the gauntlet while a team of sentinels reviewed our footprint.  The more that could pick us off by ear, the worse the score.

The instructor's wisdom was sound.  Controlling your body and being aware of your movement through a space had a huge impact on how much sound you produced.  Many wasted movements are the product of distracted thinking.  By focusing on the way and where of my movements, I was able to shed a lot of that excess.  Clearer mind, finer control, greater confidence.

Mind you, martial exercises require a lot of energy.  These two exercises dominated my week, extending their consequences and perks to day to day activities.  These people know what they’re doing.  Normally memorizing something verbatim is impossible for me.  Words without purpose are doomed.  The trick is giving them meaning.

Maybe the wording didn’t click with me, but I could interpret it in such a way that it made sense for my purposes.  The details could be smothered under a mountain for all they were worth.  What mattered was consistency and discipline.  Respecting the boundaries set by generations of ninja before us.

Some of the code had retired by the time it reached us.  No longer speaking to the warring clans era or the grudges that followed.  On the other hand, certain aspects of the code were used to dramatic effect, or outright doctored.  Some of the more skilled professors we had were able to weave those ideals into a greater purpose, giving weight and pressure to them.

That kind of talk scares me though.  It feels good in the moment, and certainly helps from a motivational standpoint, but there are certain parts that don’t sit right with me.

Ninja are people.  Stories that turn people who are not us into monsters… that takes away some of our reach for one, and starts painting some of the people I share my meals with in a bad light.  Likening the cause for studying ninjutsu to some relic, some bottomless glass.

I wasn’t so sure I could carry those Ideals.  A character flaw of mine says that something of equal power would be needed to carry that burden.  For all our studies focused on subjugation holds and making people quietly disappear, we are still only human.

---

Speaking of human limitations.  It turns out that Sally has an advantage in stealth.  She is able to extend my senses much further than normal.  Thanks to her help, I was able to excel in the practical exercises, but that was a double edged sword.

Those same advantages came with a cost, and If I only ever leaned on her enhancements, it would stunt my own growth.  My body would salvage itself to more closely resemble my resting state, and vital parts of my person would choke.

Some aspects of the body are luxuries or built in emergency rations.  Others are core to a person's identity, like my rhythm sense.  Without the right balance of these things, my body and mind would starve.

Sally was reluctant to help me directly at first.  Content to assist instead with streamlining the process.  I didn’t simply want to work side by side.  I wanted to know her.  To embrace her abilities and see the world through her eyes.  To grow around her.

The argument turned fuzzy one afternoon, and finally she agreed.  My goodness that was a trip.

Imagine for a second that you were being taken away.  Carried off to some unknown place and made to wait several hours while people around you are doing some arbitrary task.  Each time you are responsible for keeping and inner energy - lets call it a flower - in good health.

Some places are warm.  Some places are cold and forbidding.  Sometimes the flower and you are at odds about specific needs, yet every time you rely on this flower.

It didn’t happen every night, but my nightmares had become more vivid.  Lucid.  Some challenged me, where others taxed me to the end of my rope.

Like any exercise, the first time I fused with Sally’s abilities took a huge tool.  For the next week, my performance was abysmal.  I got lost in the forest.  Disoriented on the obstacle course.  I ran half a lap of the lake backwards, and to this day I am convinced that the shore loops over itself somewhere.

Sally was worried that we were pushing things too fast, but I was determined.  My ‘flower’ grew.  I envisioned those roots spreading through the warped reality and slowly brought my senses back under control.

I had to learn to accommodate elements that ran against my nature, and ignore certain areas where our abilities ran counter to each other, but the progress showed.

I could breathe deeper and work harder.  I could reflect on lessons that I wasn’t even a party to outside of a sixth sense.  I knew that Sally was the single greater teacher that I could ever ask for.

That didn’t mean I could abandon all else.  While our Synchronization grew, I was responsible for furthering my own skills in the raw.  Using what lessons we gathered to the greatest effect, and mastering the chakra produced within my body.

It was easier to do, but required every bit as much determination to maintain and develop.  As an added bonus, I got better at seeing the boundary between the chakras Sally interacted with.

It also got a lot harder to look the other way in the lecture hall.  While in my ‘trippy’ phase, I’d learned a few of the signatures of our peers out of necessity.  Those happy accidents were now unconscious schemes.  I was vividly aware of the chakra stored beneath my skin.

Every person was a note.  Every bit of animation appeared on a measure of sheet music, forming melodies between them.  Harmonies would shift depending on how I myself chose to receive them.

Ever tried patting your head and rubbing your belly at the same time?  Imagine how it feels in writing.  Nevertheless, the roots spread, and I focused on delivering focus where able.  Sometimes one just has to hand it to a change of scenery.

I had something else on my mind.  Stealth was well and good, but it wouldn’t hold much weight in a spar… would it?  Schedules were due to shift in a matter of days, and the blond boy’s challenge was still fresh in my mind.  How could I get stronger in the mean time.

A baton appeared in the air.  I raised my eyebrows at a diminutive avatar that swung it in my mind's eye as the phantom and very physical instrument struck my head from behind.

“Slacking off again, Joseph?”

“Why~?” I ignored the snickers of my classmates.

~You are being impatient, and one warning is as good as any.~

She took a seat at a desk behind me.  …shadow worlds are weird.

~A good question actually.  Why didn’t you catch it?  You know better than to let people bully you like that.~

A baton appeared in her hand, and extended into a ten foot pole.  In my frustration, I brought my hands up and clapped them together.  It was too low to stop the thing, lest it ran straight through my face.  The impact sounded throughout the classroom, and I flinched.

I did however feel a draw on my chakra, wreathing around my face as the metaphysical pole was absorbed.

~I’m not able to do that yet.~

~Be it the pen or the sword, both are expressions of intent.  Divided they are only half as strong.  You hesitate and leave yourself open to attack.  You should never short change the will of fire.~

~Why does that sound so familiar?~

~It comes from a family of philosophy that the ninja back home hold close to heart.~

In a heartbeat, I’d met the instructor's gaze and started bringing my pen back down to my notes.  One hand covered my notes, and I tiled my head to the side.  Half-way to sleeping in the middle of class, I felt something writhing at the corner of my mind.  I listened for this song.

The professor didn’t comment on my action, and shifted instead to the board.  Class was close to finished, and she made to outline further works.  A crack had formed in the chalk staff and it came apart in pieces.

The students rose as she dismissed us.  I raised my palm just so.  The sheet of music had become a grimoire, falling heavy in hand and too great to be read in the moment.  I rested for a moment as several hand seals came to mind, latching onto the corners of the book.  I decided to leave it behind.  Banishing the shadow realm in favor of leaving the classroom.  The instructors gaze following me warily.