Punishment [Training]

Age : 35 Posts : 1113

Training:

Spoiler:

"No, Uriko. While you might enjoy causing him pain, that injury will come back to haunt you." The middle-aged man explained. His pupil seemed irritated by the criticism. "How so?" She inquired, through clenched teeth. The relationship between the two was quite clear - the young kunoichi had need of the man's lessons, much as she hated his superiority. She dreamt of surpassing him, leaving him for dead as her name spread through the towns like wildfire. Little did either of the pair know, said day was close at hand. For now, however, Uriko endured the man's teachings. "Think. He escapes, his wound is treated. And then?" He asked, leading the woman to the answer. "He returns with a larger force; companions, perhaps." She intoned, clearly bored. There was a lengthy pause, before Uriko spoke up again. "I could just kill them." She muttered. Suprisingly, her sensei didn't reprimand her at all. He merely shrugged. "'Course you could, Uriko. But that's not my point." The kunoichi looked puzzled. "What was the use of your first strike, if you just let him escape?" A slightly wrinkled hand gripped the woman's shoulder as the man locked his gaze with hers. "Make it count. He murmured, a small smile crossing his lips.

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The memory only briefly surfaced in the woman's mind. She merely wondered what the old man would've made of the new technique she'd been practicing. His teachings were the inspiration, after all. "Make it count." She sniffed. "If only I could kill you again, sensei." She sighed, her voice wistful and her stance carefree. The kunoichi was sat on a rooftop, her legs dangling over the flat parapet as she gazed at the throngs of people below. She was waiting for a very specific person, one she'd marked at the very beginning of the day. It was now a good nine hours later, and time to give the new jutsu its final run. The problem with Getsukgakure was traffic-related. So many traders, holidaymakers and a fair few shinobi passed through the idyllic island village. Even with her target marked, it could be difficult to pick him out amongst such a large crowd. Every time she caught just a glimpse of white cloth, she was immediately on alert. No bandage yet, however.

Having tailed a few potential victims at dawn, Uriko had chosen a particularly unpleasant specimen to torment. He took little care for personal (or public) hygeine, was rude and abrasive to others and had no discernable use to society. Darting swiftly past him, her hood and cloak concealing her identity, the female nukenin had given a flick of the wrist. Her hidden blade had sprang forward and scored through the man's upper arm in one smooth motion. Before he'd even had time to yell out in pain, the woman had disappeared. The cut had been very deep, but Uriko had smothered the blade in healing salve before striking, so that it would be well cauterized come the afternoon. The bleeding had been stemmed by a thick, white bandage, which now acted as the marker for the kunoichi to re-locate her target. Rolling her head impatiently, Uriko's expression turned to one of surprise when she recognized the heavily-strapped arm passing the market stall beneath her. Quick as a flash, she brought her hand before her chest and in a flash, was holding the last of a short set of seals. "One...two..." She whispered, excitedly. The reply was almost instantaneous. "Arrgghh!" Came the cry from below. The bandage was already dripping with the deep crimson blood and as the victim ripped it off, Uriko could see that the wound had torn straight back open. It looked particularly painful. Giggling quietly to herself, the kunoichi made beat a hasty retreat, wondering whether to visit her 'friend' again in a few hours. She was going to enjoy using this technique.

[Word Count 648/250]