Chapter Text
"You know what is expected of you, Masashi."
The Mizuno family had just gathered for their breakfast, and Masashi's father had already begun with the lectures to each of his children. Masashi did not need his father's chiding piled on top of his anxiety for today's ultimate challenge, yet his morning did not deal in his favor. Minato's eyes fixated on a tiny dot on their table while her body remained frozen in place. Her fingertips curled around her cobalt blue kimono covering her folded knees as her face tightly held its serious yet graceful demeanor—the only demeanor that her parents would allow her to face any living creature with. Misa, however, fidgeted with her short locks of hair that constantly slipped out of her fingers before she could grasp any ounce of comfort from her repeated gesture. Her eyes darted to everyone's visages as if she searched for any hint of the proper expression to take in the setting. Her eyes finally settled on Masashi and quietly beseeched him for any indicator of what to do.
Masashi straightened his back and stiffened his crossed legs already squeezing into a painfully tight position, and Misa followed by straightening her own back.
"I understand, Otousan," Masashi replied in a calm yet firm tone. His father's gaze—tainted by a blinded right eye dulled to a lifeless gray—drilled a hole into his soul where his self-esteem would supposedly leak out soon enough. Masashi hoped that he would be satisfied with leaving his son to patch the hole in his confidence, yet his father crushed his dreams of moving on from the lecture with more commands.
"You are the one who must bring this family honor and pride. Your Sensei has told me that you are rapidly advancing in your training. You must not fail, especially after all that you have accomplished," he continued. Minato's grip constricted around the kimono's fabric until her fist started to shake. Still, their father said, "You must make this family proud. Our honor depends on you."
He finally leaned back and turned his icy gaze from Masashi to Minato, his mere glare of judgment snapping her from her boiling rage.
"As for you, Minato. As your status as a fine dancer, I expect you to maintain your position as one of the main dancers. You have impressed our community, and I hope you continue to do so. Our lovely daughter must stay lovely," he commanded.
Minato nodded her head in silence and waited for his further ramblings about honor, but once his few seconds of silence passed awkwardly, she scrambled to affirm her father's message, "Yes, Otousan. I will not disappoint you." Her eyes returned to the marking on the table and refused to budge from here.
Finally, he shifted his gaze to Misa, though his expression did not soften in the slightest as he said, "Misa, I understand that you are young, but you are not excused from expectations. I hope that you become an honorable and respectable member of this community like your siblings have done." Misa squeaked and pinned her arms to her side in a stiff position, but her mother's gentle prod encouraged her to relax once more. "Your mother and I have considered enrolling you in the Sensei's training program for young students hoping to be ninjas. Perhaps you can follow in Masashi's steps. If not, your path must take you to a place of honor and praise."
"Yes, Otousan," she peeped before she continued to stroke her hair in her anxious habit.
"Now, let us eat. Masashi, Minato... You two have a long day ahead of you..."
* * *
Masashi adjusted his black belt one last time before sliding his door open to expose himself to the new day in his village. He stepped out into the brisk spring day and inhaled a sharp breath of the crisp air laced with faint scents of perfumes from cherry blossom trees, teas, and incense. He closed the door behind him and marched past several vendors wheeling around their wooden stands tinkling with trinkets. Residents of the village strolled around to admire the beautifully crafted items available for purchase, and he wondered if he could buy a small gift for Misa after the unpleasant speech at breakfast today. However, the children playing in the square rushed up to him, the taps of their sandals on the cobblestone ground alerting him of their inevitable swarm. Instantly, they surrounded him and gawked at his black belt with wide eyes sparkling with awe; some children even dared to touch its fabric and tug on its loose ends.
Masashi lightly shooed them all away and asked, "Alright, what questions do you all have today?"
As if his words opened a floodgate, their queries streamed from their mouths.
"What are you doing today?"
"Is the training in the Dojo dangerous?"
"Is the Sensei really impossible to beat?"
"Woah, slow down! We'll take this one at a time!" Masashi told them. As he walked toward the Dojo, he answered each question, "Today is the day that I finally earn my Ninja Mask! Well, hopefully. Sensei is not impossible to defeat in a match, but it requires the utmost skill, focus, and luck. He is a very skilled master of the Elements, so it takes the very best to beat him and become a true ninja. As for the training..."
A gong echoed across the village: the early warning ring.
"You'll just have to see for yourself! Goodbye!" he concluded with a wave to the children before he raced up the Dojo's stone steps and through its doors. Once he finally skidded to a slow and relieved stroll, he watched ninjas brandishing white and yellow belts sparring on the blue mats while more experienced ninjas soared across the platforms and railings as their purple and brown belts glided with their movements. Behind the exploding bursts of fire and the jetting fountains of water, his friends leaned against one of the wooden beams and waved to him. He dodged ongoing matches and ducked under attacks accidentally zooming his way to greet his friends. "Everyone's on guard, huh?" he joked.
"Yep. We all got the jitters. I heard that this will be Goro's twentieth time challenging Sensei!" Lorna whispered.
"Aw, geez! Is it really that hard?" Danbi whined.
"It shouldn't be that bad, right?" Masashi dismissed, but a cold sweat soaked the back of his gi when another gong rumbled and shook the Dojo's walls. Instantly, all of the ninjas ceased their sparring and rushed over to the center of the Dojo where they split into respective groups judged by their belt color. Masashi and his friends followed suit and merged with the group of black belts, a crew whispering their rumors and concerns among themselves. Without a warning, an eruption of fire, water, and snow appeared before all of the ninjas, which frightened the anxious black belts into cowering positions. From the explosion, an old man adorned in a gray haori and a conical hat stood before his students and supported his body on his walking stick. They recovered from their scare quickly and bowed to their Sensei for a few long seconds. He bowed back to them and began to speak in his raspy yet commanding voice.
"Good morning, grasshoppers. As you know, today is quite an important day for our black belts. They shall each take a turn challenging me to a match, and if they succeed, they shall receive their masks and become true ninjas. The rest of you shall train out here. Black belts, follow me."
Sensei hobbled out of the Dojo and took a path to the outdoor garden, and the black-belted ninjas hesitantly followed.
As the trio of friends walked with the crowd, Danbi mumbled, "If we have to challenge Sensei, then it's no wonder that there's not a lot of ninjas!"
Lorna rolled her eyes, "What do you expect? We can't let some unprepared students become ninjas!"
Their conversation fell to a hush when the crowd of students stopped walking, and Sensei stood before them to say, "Your training has culminated to this moment. If you feel unprepared, you are more than welcome to leave and train some more for the next week."
No one moved a muscle, though several of the students' eyes darted among each other.
"Well, then. Let our challenge commence. Who shall go first?" His eyes surveyed the small group of around twenty-seven students trembling with wringing hands and nervous glances around the garden.
However, a black-belted student swaggered up to the front with a haughty smirk and proclaimed, "I will go first, Sensei!"
"Hm... Very well, Hibiki. Follow me," Sensei instructed before he turned around and led Hibiki to a private extension of the Dojo to spar with him. The paper-thin walls of the room showed Hibiki's and Sensei's shadows for all of the other students to observe. They watched as the two rivals bowed before beginning their match. Through the semi-transparency of the room, they could see them draw cards and dodge attacks. However, the longer the match went on, the more Hibiki's figure frantically ducked under attacks and retreated to his side of the room. Glows of the Elements flashed through the walls until Hibiki's figure fell to the floor and Sensei's silhouette bowed to his student, but the student refused to take his Sensei's offered hand and pushed himself back to his feet. The door slammed open, and Hibiki trudged out of the room soaked to the bone and expressing downcast eyes of shame before he retreated into the crowd of shocked black-belted students.
Sensei stood in the doorway and declared, "The next student may enter."
The students burst into swift whispers as their wide, terrified eyes gawked at their Sensei. Nevertheless, he waited patiently for the next pupil to emerge from the crowd and accept his challenge. Soon, a braver (and much humbler) ninja peered out and approached him. He greeted her with a kinder smile and gestured her into the sparring room. Alas, the match ended with her falling to the floor and Sensei's shadow presenting three cards in his hands. He once again reached out his hand to her, and unlike Hibiki, she took his hand and rose to her feet. The two lingered in there for several seconds until she exited with a smoking gi littered with smoldering embers. Whenever a new student entered, they left with embarrassed eyes glued to their sandaled feet and a gi covered in at least one element—or perhaps a mix of all three. One by one, the crowd decreased until only ten remained. Sensei stood in the doorway once again and spoke once more.
"The next student may enter."
Danbi shuffled forward and murmured, "I'll go next... If that's okay..."
"That is most certainly appreciated, grasshopper," Sensei smiled. When he saw the young student quivering, he soothed her in a soft voice, "Do not be afraid. There is nothing to lose." With slightly more confidence than before, Danbi followed him to the sparring room. Masashi and Lorna scrambled to the front of the crowd to watch the silhouettes of their friend and their Sensei battling. Danbi cowered at every attack and only managed to use one card for a winning turn before Sensei defeated her. He reached out a hand to her and pulled her to her feet, but through the paper-thin walls, the remaining pupils saw his hand rest on her shoulder. Danbi nodded along to what he was saying to her before he patted her shoulder and gestured her to the door. The young student exited with a disappointed frown and a snow-coated gi, but hope glimmered in her eyes.
"Don't be too scared. He's really nice about it," she whispered to Lorna and Masashi before she returned back into the Dojo's main area.
When Sensei announced his waiting for the next student, Lorna stepped out and stated, "I shall go now." It ended the same way, only this time Lorna exited with a soaked uniform and chattering teeth. "That was intense," she merely mumbled to Masashi before she retreated back into the Dojo. Masashi waited until all of the other students left with obvious signs of defeat; the thought of walking out of the match with defeat as his only offering to even another one of the black-belted students mortified him. Eventually, all of the students except for him left in defeat, and Sensei stood in the doorway as poised as ever. His soft eyes landed on the final ninja as he hummed quietly in thought.
"Ah, Mizuno-san. Are you ready, or would you like another minute?"
Did... he just refer to him by his name?
Don't lose focus, Masashi scolded himself, though the unexpected toss of his name still startled him. "Yes, Sensei. I am ready."
"Excellent. Follow me," he told the student. Masashi climbed up the few steps into the sparring room, and Sensei swiped the door shut. Mounds of snow, puddles of water, and glowing sparks detailed the intensity of these matches, and the sight of far more elemental residue behind him than on Sensei's side forced him to gulp down a lump in his throat. Sensei stood at his spot on the mat and asked, "Are you ready now, grasshopper?"
"Yes, I am."
Without a word, Sensei pressed his hands to his side and bowed. Masashi followed suit, and as they both returned to upright positions, Masashi foraged his pocket for five cards. He whipped out five cards: a snow power card, a water power card, two fire cards, and one water card. While Sensei observed his deck, Masashi furrowed his eyebrows in an analysis of the potential options. Students often chose fire as their first card, so Masashi would have naturally chosen a water card; however, Sensei could expect such a thing and use a snow card. Thinking one step ahead, Masashi drew out his better of the two fire cards: a purple fire card with the number eight on its side. He met eyes with Sensei, who had been staring at him for who knows how long? In perfect unison and agreement, the two tucked their other cards behind their back and flipped their cards simultaneously.
Much to Masashi's shock and disappointment in himself, Sensei had drawn a yellow water card with the number six on it.
Sensei cupped his other hand around the card, and once he pulled his palms apart, a stream of water appeared between his hands. He jutted his arms forward, sending the flow of water right at Masashi. Luckily, he dodged it just in time to miss the shot, but Sensei held up the winning card in pride before he laid it on a nearby table assigned to holding winning cards. It's not over just yet. I can still win this, Masashi encouraged himself, but a sickening feeling of doubt settled over his stomach. He dug through his pocket for another card, and this time another snow power card emerged. Sensei had already drawn from his deck and indicated his completed choice by tucking his other four cards behind his back. In a blur of pure guess, Masashi drew his snow power card and tucked his remaining deck behind him.
The two flipped their cards to face one another, and Masashi's greater snow card versed against Sensei's lesser snow card.
Masashi froze for a second to process what happened; he won a card against Sensei! He did not allow his hubris to capture all of his wariness yet, so he concentrated on summoning a blast of snow and launching it at Sensei. The Card-Jitsu master dodged out of the way and watched as the speed of the snowball ripped a hole through the wall.
Masashi hissed a breath of air in and apologized, "Sorry..."
"Do not worry," Sensei merely commented before he searched for his next card. Masashi drew out his next card: a water power card. He evaluated his next move, and he resolved that Sensei would draw a fire card or a water card since hardly any ninjas try an Element twice! He selected his newfound water card valued at twelve and held it up in preparation. Sensei chose his other card, and they flipped their cards over to reveal Sensei's snow power card. Without a change in expression, Sensei summoned a snowstorm and rained it upon the poor student. Masashi fell to the ground and attempted to block the incoming snowflakes with his arm, but they faded before the student faced any harm. For a moment, Masashi did not want to spring back up and continue the match. Surely, he would lose.
"Are you alright, Mizuno-san?" Sensei's voice gently inquired.
He wanted to slam his cards to the floor and storm out of the room. How did Sensei expect anyone to become a ninja if no one could ever beat him in a single match? How could he ask him if he was alright after two humiliating losses? He wished that the path of the ninja was just a bit more merciful. He wished that the weight of his family's expectations did not nearly crush him. He wished that he could face his losses with optimism instead of self-loathing.
"Grasshopper, do you wish to stop?"
"No. Let us continue."
The match went on. Sensei won a snow and water card while Masashi only won a water card. Now, the final match dictating who would win commenced. It was already obvious that Sensei would win no matter what. Masashi gloomily plucked out the fire card in his deck and tucked the rest behind his back. Sensei picked out his card and met his eyes, but the master's eyes seemed to recoil when they witnessed the despair and nihilism of the student's eyes. Masashi flipped his card with a sigh and without waiting for Sensei to do the same. The teacher's hand trembled to reveal a water card. The last of the student's hope fizzled out into a pathetic wisp as he allowed the card to slip from his fingers and fall to the ground.
Sensei dropped his own card as well and tottered toward Masashi as he breathed, "Mizuno-san... Please do not be upset. You should know that—"
"Please do forgive me for my failure, Sensei," Masashi pleaded in a low and quavering voice, "I promise I shall do better next time."
"Mizuno-san... You must know that failure is a large part of your journey. How else do you expect to learn?" he questioned.
"But failure also brings missed opportunities and misfortune... and dishonor."
"Grasshopper, being a ninja is not about honor. It is about learning and growing. But if it comforts you, you have impressed me quite greatly today."
Masashi's eyes glistened with a ray of hope.
"Really?"
"Of course. Your talent is already remarkable, but it takes many trials and errors to hone those talents and skills. Many of the greatest ninjas were the ones who lost to their teachers many times. Perhaps, you shall find yourself in a similar fate."
Masashi's mouth curved into a strained half-smile, and Sensei knew just the thing to cheer him up.
"Would you like to know how many times I lost to my teacher?"
"How many..?"
"Twenty-four times."
"WHAT!?" Masashi nearly stumbled back.
Sensei chuckled, "Yes, and I was like you as well—a desire for success and an abhorrence for failure. However, I would not have all of the wisdom that I have now were it not for my mistakes. And I know a few who allowed their desire for success alone to turn into an obsession. I never want that fate to come upon you, grasshopper."
He rested his wrinkled hand on the student's shoulder.
"Do not let your hatred for failure hold you back from your true greatness."
"Yes, Sensei," Masashi nodded and finally gave a genuine smile.
"You have a lot of potential, grasshopper. I do not do this often, but if you wish to train with me, I will happily spar with you and help you improve your skill."
"Really..?" Masashi gasped. When Sensei nodded, he gushed, "Oh, thank you, Sensei! I promise to make you proud!"
Sensei smiled and lightly shook Masashi's shoulder.
"You already have."