Link to the First Chapter:
Link to the Second Chapter:
Again, whether or not you read this is up to you. It's merely explaining my road to NB and the people that came my way.
Yes, there will be people on NB here. Mostly the people I train and those that are close to me. Those I don't know well will not be here. I don't write because I want society's approval.
I also noticed how most people write like this.
Tenzo: What?
Anbu Minato: I just had a hangover.
That's an incorrect way of writing. That's not even a form of screenwriting.
[/I]
Note: This is a pure allegory. I tend to excel at those. Whether you want to read it or not is up to you, but literature always has deeper meanings and I write in this manner to avoid direct confrontations.
Allegory:
You must be registered for see links
Link to the Second Chapter:
You must be registered for see links
Again, whether or not you read this is up to you. It's merely explaining my road to NB and the people that came my way.
Yes, there will be people on NB here. Mostly the people I train and those that are close to me. Those I don't know well will not be here. I don't write because I want society's approval.
I also noticed how most people write like this.
Tenzo: What?
Anbu Minato: I just had a hangover.
That's an incorrect way of writing. That's not even a form of screenwriting.
[/I]
Note: This is a pure allegory. I tend to excel at those. Whether you want to read it or not is up to you, but literature always has deeper meanings and I write in this manner to avoid direct confrontations.
Allegory:
An allegory is a figurative mode of representation conveying meaning other than the literal. Allegory communicates its message by means of symbolic figures, actions or symbolic representation. Allegory is generally treated as a figure of rhetoric, but an allegory does not have to be expressed in language: it may be addressed to the eye, and is often found in realistic painting, sculpture or some other form of mimetic, or representative art. Simply put, an allegory is a device used to present an idea, principle or meaning, which can be presented in literary form, such as a poem or novel, or in visual form, such as in painting or sculpture. As a literary device, an allegory in its most general sense is an extended metaphor. As an artistic device, an allegory is a visual symbolic representation. An example of a simple visual allegory is the image of the grim reaper. Viewers understand that the image of the grim reaper is a symbolic representation of death. Nevertheless, images and fictions with several possible interpretations are not allegories in the true sense. Furthermore, not every fiction with general application is an allegory.
So please, if you are going to read this, read it in full.
The High Road of NB.
My heart burdened and anger burning, I trudged back to the Room I had gathered in, only to collapse onto the floor, my tattered clothes and blood swept in a mass around me.A warm hand suddenly touched my shoulder, and I looked up, only to meet the knowing eyes of Ingwer. He said nothing, but we shared a quiet moment...a moment of connection, a moment of sorrow, a moment...of self-actualization.
The silence was broken by the slam of the door. With a flurry of purpose and wrath, a familiar participant tore into the room. His face was twisted with rage, his shoulders heaving up and down as if carrying out a huge task.
"I'll kill them!" he roared, his fists clenched tightly besides him.
I winced at the fury in his voice, only to realize that it matched my own.
"I was worthy," he continued. "I was ****ing more worthy than any of the others!"
His only audience, a stunned Musasibo, a silent Ingwer, and my own internal struggle, said nothing in reply.
"Calm down, will you, Icemyster?" A hand appeared on his shoulder, and I looked, with some effort, to see that it was the sensei that had brought us into the arena. With some difficulty, I struggled to remember her name. It came back to me then...Akiza, was it not?
Icemyster, for that was his name, turned on Akiza then, his anger still evident. "You should have passed me!" he snapped bitterly. "Why didn't you? I'll prove to you that those that got their Kousa are no more better than I am!" He pushed her away and stormed out.
Akiza looked momentarily stunned, but quickly called after Icemyster.
However, there was no reply, and his footsteps soon disappeared down the hall.
A silence was met with this outburst. Slowly, my eyes came up to meet with Akiza's, and she nodded ever so slowly.
With a certain conviction, a look of understanding passed between us.
"You...were about to do what he did?" she questioned softly.
I lowered my eyes, guilty of my own selfish thoughts. "I worked so hard..." I blubbered, feeling like a fool, but yet unable to restrain myself.
"There's always next time, isn't there?" Akiza stated.
I almost hated her for stating such a blatant statement, but I knew fully well it was true.
Ingwer shrugged behind me and I felt his concern as he gave me a thorough look. "You look rather beaten up," he said. "Did they not give you treatment after such a test?"
My anger and resentment nearly gone, the situation of my own body suddenly dawned upon me.
Wincing in pain, my hand went instinctively to my waist, where I had been stabbed multiple times by the sword.
It came away warm and stained bright red by my own blood. Upon looking at such a thing, I suddenly felt nauseous, and collapsed onto the ground.
My conscious slowly faded, along with my confidence. It was wrong, I told myself, to ever try for such this "Kousa". You should have known Sinister would have passed you, were my bitter thoughts. You were the one who was such an idiot fool in the beginning. He was always doing better than you and you never tried. You pitiful fool! Pitiful!
How long I lay dead to the world, I knew not. All I knew were the comforting touches of those that were close to me, and constant murmurs of recent news.
As I recovered slowly, the room that had once been filled with dozens of people only now consisted of Ingwer, Musasibo, and occasionally, a visit by Akiza.
However, Sinister came in one day, looking like a completely new person. His suit seemed to be elaborated upon, the symbol of a sensei clear upon him. His own persona - his attitude, seemed to have become more enlightening.
"Tenzo!" he exclaimed as he rushed into the Room. "They gave me my own room on Skiathuros, the Road!"
I mumbled something incoherent, turning upon the bed I now lay on for most of my days.
"Tenzo!" Sinister shook me, his hands strong and enthusiastic upon my shoulder.
Yet I did not respond, my lightened wounds coming back to me as more vicarious than ever.
"He's hopeless - just leave him alone," a light voice then said. Ingwer came upon the scene, his mood nonchalant as ever. "Say, Sinister, I might be going for the Kousa soon. What do you think?"
Sinister laughed and patted Ingwer upon the shoulder. "You go for it, bro," he said. "It's an experience that changes one forever."
Ingwer smiled in reply, encouraged by Sinister's words. Then I felt him turn to me, and I found myself dreading his next words. "So, Tenzo, have you decided yet?"
Yet I still did not respond. My heart remained stony, my failures coming to bit me over and over.
A familiar object was suddenly shoved into my hands. I nearly sat up in surprise, but it quickly died down as I realized it was my own suit.
"Take it up once again, Tenzo," I heard Sinister suddenly say. "I know you didn't have someone to guide you personally, but I found my skills to be achieved through personal experience."
"And perhaps not..." I muttered, the bitterness clear in my voice as I turned on my side to face the wall. "Go back to your Room."
"Hey..." Sinister sounded a bit hurt. "I'm waiting for you to catch up to me before I do so."
"It won't happen any time soon," I replied flatly. "You shouldn't come back to see me."
"Tenzo..." Sinister said, a bit of hopelessness in his voice.
"You can't help him," I then heard Ingwer say. "He's gotta stand up by himself."
Bunch of bull... I thought to myself.
However, my actions got me nowhere. Through several months, I lay on my bed, perhaps pitying myself. I knew not my path, my goal, my personal self-actualization. Nothing particularly happened during this era - several times I nearly rose myself out of the dark pit I sat in, but every time I neared the top, I fell back once again.
But one day, an interesting occurred happened upon me. Ingwer rushed back to me a particularly dull day, rather excited.
"He's back! He's back! And not only him!"
Having gone ahead of me and obtained his own Room and Kousa, Ingwer still came back occasionally to visit me, however, only to bring news.
"Who's he?" I mumbled, the impact of the state of my living clear upon me.
"Your instructor, who else?" Ingwer repeated, the tone of his cheerful voice reminding me bitterly of Sinister's.
"My...instructor?" Puzzlement ran through my mind as I tried to bring up what memories I could from the unpleasant situations I had once gone through.
"Scary Yamato, that's who..." Ingwer said. "He's probably the only one that could complete what you need of your suit. And that's not all, so did Bisha, and..."
He went on and on, however, I was already contemplating the choices that had seemed to open in front of me. "Who's...Scary Yamato?"
Ingwer paused in the middle of a sentence. "You don't remember?" he questioned. "You told me that you heard from one of you earliest senseis that he was the one that could guide you in a special way. He came back to his Room one day, was the news I was given today."
I frowned, but now remembered the words that Noobinator and Ace had told me so long ago. "Perhaps I can attain the Kousa now..." I said out loud without realizing it.
But almost immediately, the truth of my past experiences dawned upon me and I found myself struggling once again on the point of desperation. To do or not do, was the question.
And for once, Ingwer was silent. "You...finally want to try?"
"Do I...?" my own voice trailed off. "I suppose...I should." I laughed then, but was then shocked at the hollowness and bitterness of my own voice.
Ingwer sighed then, and offered a hand. "I'll take you to Scary Yamato. He happens to have a room near my own."
I reached to take his hand, but yet, I hesitated. Ingwer shook his head and grasped my hand tightly himself, lifting me to my weak feet. I struggled a moment, my own body frail, and finally stepped outside the borders of my own confinement.
Once outside, after cooped up for such a long while, I find my eyes adjusting the familiar road, Skiathuros, as if it was something new. Instead of dark corners and treacherous pits, I saw opportunities after opportunities, and for once in my pitiful, I thought I had made the right choice.
Ingwer brought me to an open door and I found myself stepping inside without hesitation, his help no longer needed. My heart was light, my mind wide open for possibilities.
Surrounded by a group of people, I found myself thinking Scary Yamato was perhaps what I had expected him to be. He talked earnestly with those around him, only to pause in what he was saying when he noticed me. His smile only broadened upon the sight of I clutching my suit so feebly.
"Come in, come in," he invited, as he politely gestured at the people around him to step aside. "I see that you happen to be one of those that has attained that special suit."
He then held his hand out, and I handed my suit over to him.
Scary Yamato pondered over the object for a considerable moment, nodding to himself and ran his hands over the delicate fabric.
"I was the one who had this special set of suits made," he said, almost as if he was dreaming. "I will be more than happy to guide you upon how to utilize it properly."
I nodded then, almost exhilarated, the door of possibilities wide open for me.
Scary Yamato stood then, his hand still upon my suit. "I would assume your previous senseis only fixed the suit for you?"
"That is correct," I responded.
"They never once told you what they were doing?"
I shook my head in response. I had a general idea, however, I never fully understood it.
"I see." Scary Yamato looked thoughtful for a slight moment. "Then, I will teach you the process of how to use your suit properly. Come with me, and I shall begin today."
I crossed over to him from the door, thinking upon my every step, perhaps exaggerating my own conviction.
From that point on, I went to him several times in a single week, learning skills I had that I never knew I possessed. More enthusiastic and more enlightening than the beginning of the road, I was nearly confident at the end that I could now obtain the Kousa. I brought the question up with him upon a particularly engaging lesson.
"Sensei," I emphasized as he beckoned at me from across the room to release a special combination of attack. "Do you believe I could now obtain a Kousa?"
I rushed at him then, my angle wild and attempted to deal a rather devastating blow upon his head. However, he only defended it casually with one hand, using the other to counter my full attack.
"Given your current circumstances, I believe you can," he then said. "However, it is no easy task, and you must be prepared for it."
"How must I do that?" I questioned him.
"The first would be to know your opponent," Scary Yamato stated nonchalantly. "As I understand you and your idea of attacking, I can easily counter it with my own. It is no different than when you attempt to battle someone for your Kousa."
"He came...quite suddenly," I recalled. "I didn't know what was happening until it was too late."
"My point exactly. Know your opponent."
Once again, I found myself amazed at Scary Yamato's openness. I knew with a consent that I would probably never achieve such a thing, but horribly despised him and myself for it as it lead to the possibility of a downfall some day. And as I realized, with a certain horror, that the one falling would never know that they were.
"So...I can take it?" Like a child looking for a parent's permission, I too, looked upon Scary Yamato to give me his assurance.
"Of course you can. But always be wary," he repeated.
"Then the decision is made," I finished. "They may be coming to my Room tomorrow, and when they do, I will make sure to go with them to the arena once more."
"Then I wish you luck," Scary Yamato said. "I look forward to your return."
With full confidence in myself and a child's eagerness, I followed the crowd of people into the arena once more the next day. This time, I told myself, I will not fail. After all, I was prepared, was I not?
This time, however, the one leading the crowd was not Akiza. I learned his name was Nero, and he, too, possessed an offspring of Scary Yamato's creation. Furthermore, he was rather zealous about it. But, I did not let such a fact worry me.
I stepped up confidently to that red line once more.
As my opponent suddenly rushed up to attack me, I defended against his move confidently. "I saw that coming," I couldn't help but say.
However, my opponent said nothing in reply. In a moment, he was gone, and was behind me, his sword drawn once again. But I was prepared. I drew my own version of the sword, blocking against his comfortably as he once again tried to strike me down.
The battle raged on - I found myself nearly stumbling several times, however, I recalled Ingwer's strong encouragement, and Scary Yamato's own advice, and I never faltered.
Finally defeating my opponent by pure strength, I was nearly enervated by then. Stabbing my sword into the grassy arena, I struggled for breath as someone new suddenly appeared in front of me.
Without a word, I was shocked to see Nero himself facing me. With a single swipe of his hand, I found myself flying several meters back, coughing out my own blood as I did so.
"What - what are you doing...?" I managed to say as Nero approached me once more. "I thought I had passed - I thought..."
"This is the second part," Nero replied smoothly. "Or did you not know that...?"
His foot rose and then came down just as swiftly. With a crack, I felt my Fibula (lower section of leg) break in two and excruciating pain shoot up my entire body.
"You lose," Nero said, a touch of imperiousness in his voice.
"No, no, I...didn't...I...can't..." I struggled to get up, my confidence still refusing to break.
Nero forced me back down with a mere kick. "You weren't prepared," he stated. "And I never expected you to pass either."
"I...was prepared..." Suddenly, I found my own self-esteem dying, and the consequences of failure dawning on me. "I...was...prepared! Don't you dare underestimate!" The structure and foundation that I had built my confidence on had begin crumbling. In desperation, I poured all my energy into rising and attempting in just one more attack - I pulled my body out of Nero's grasp, raising my right hand for a single blow.
However, just as quickly, his condition ten times better than my own, Nero responded with a brutal counter of his own, his right hand flashing out to catch my own in midair, effectively snapping my wrist as he did so.
I howled in unbearable pain as I collapsed onto the ground once more.
"That was a nice last try," Nero said. "However, you weren't prepared. Thus, you failed once more."
He begin walking away, leaving me lying on the ground once again, in a pool of my own blood. I opened up my mouth to call one last wait!, however, I choked on blood as I did so.
I lay there for what seemed hours on end, however, as the sky begin to darken, I forced myself out, stumbling on one lame leg and holding my broken wrist with one hand.
I reached Scary Yamato's room just as he was about to close it. My head dizzy with pain, and resolve broken into a dozen pieces, I was only able to utter two words before I passed out in front of him.
"I...failed."
I tried my best to capture personality, and I will emphasize more on it on the Final Chapter of my history.
All the events described above is nearly true to the premises.
