"Taijutsu is the basic form of techniques and refers to any techniques involving the martial arts of the optimization of natural human abilities. Taijutsu is executed by directly accessing the user's physical and mental energies, relying on the stamina and strength gained through training."

Deep breaths. I close my eyes, and take in my surroundings with just the senses of touch, smell and sound. Deep breaths.

It's cold. Well, of course it's cold. It's the middle of the winter season, one of the worst I've seen since I can remember, and we're at the top of a mountain. It is snowing awfully hard, though. It's been like this for about a month, non-stop. But I don't mind. I mean, I have lived here my whole life. I just wish that Makara-sensei might consider moving somewhere that's just a little warmer.

I exhale. Crouching down on my gloved hand and my padded knees, I hold the snow, squeezing it until it is forced to form around my fingers. I stare back at the cabin where I live. The snow is leveled neatly against the edge of the wooden porch. It is six feet off the ground, which worries me. At this rate, if the storm doesn't stop, our cabin will be buried.

The roar of the wind starts growing louder. I sigh. I really do hate this place. The Hidden Snow Village is the secret village of the Land of Snow. The storms here never stop, and since we live higher up in the mountains, the weather is more problematic than it is down below in the village. Or, so I've heard. I've never been.

I've always wondered why we live in seclusion. Why can't we live with all the others? I've never left the mountains, because Makara-sensei says it isn't safe. It is rather lonely here, and all I ever do is train with her. Makara-sensei is an old woman, who became my guardian after my parents' passing. I don't know how they died. She won't tell me. Although, I'm not sure that I want to know.

I push myself up and let the snow-turned-slush-turned-liquid in my hand slide off my fingertips.

"Are you prepared?" Makara-sensei asks. I brush my snow covered bangs from my face and nod. I take a stance and place my hand out in front of me, my palm toward her. She takes her own stance, with her fist clenched and leveled at my face. There is no one else I know that I can compare her to. But if I did, then I'd say that she's the best at what she does. I had been six years old when she made the decision to train me. And since then, I haven't had a break.

"Yes, I'm ready."

"Then, begin!"

She runs at me, taking no time at all to attack. Despite her frail and wrinkled figure, she really packs more of a punch than someone might expect. Jumping a foot off the ground, she brings her leg up and aims carefully at my stomach. I'm able to block it just in time with my knee, though it knocks me off-balance a little, my heels dragging through the snow, and the impact has my right hip aching. Her next attack comes just as fast, and I barely have enough time to react. I cross my arms in front of my face to deflect her fists. It makes my forearms burn; she must have added some force to that one.

"Get off your defense," she orders, pushing me backwards so that I fall into the freshly fallen snow. My legs and arms quickly start to grow numb from the cold. "Don't tell me that these past six years of training were only so that you would get beaten by an old lady!"

"Unless you've suddenly lost your memory, I've just recently been able to beat you!" I shout at her. Makara-sensei sneers at me.

"Is that right, now?"

"You know it!" Out of the hundreds of times we've sparred, I've only won three times against her. The first time I won, she broke my arm, and I was forced to take time off from my training to mend. She is like a machine, with the strength of a hundred men. It terrifies me, knowing that there has always been a chance that she has been holding out on using her full power. I shudder from the thought-- and from the bitter cold.

"Prepare yourself, child," Makara-sensei takes another stance. I swallow. "I'm coming for you."

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! Not there!" I dig my fingernails into the armchair of the couch to try and center the pain elsewhere. "What kind of treatment is this?!"

"Adding pain to a wound is the best way to heal it," Makara-sensei says, tightening the bandages around my bruised arm. I grimace. "So, stop whining and take it like a man."

"But I'm not a man! I'm a girl, and a very fragile one at that..."

"A fragile girl wouldn't be able to take down her sensei in less than ten minutes, child." Makara-sensei absentmindedly rubs her left shoulder. "You've grown very strong."

"... strong enough to finally leave the mountains?" I suggest lowly, nearly a whisper. Her white eyebrows narrow dangerously close together. "O-Or, um..."

"I'm afraid that I can't allow you to do that, child."

"But why not?" I demand. It's impossible for me to hold my tongue; I've been holding it for the past three years. "Why can't I go down to the village? I'm old enough, aren't I?"

"Yes, but your strength, however, is not completely up to par, which is why I cannot allow you to leave on your own." I frown. "Not yet. So, until then, you shall stay here and train with me."

"But Makara-sensei...!"

"No complaints," Makara-sensei says, and she punches my bad arm. I wince, gasping. "Since you're all patched up, go do some dishes."

"Dishes?!"

"Yeah, and while you're at it, you can wash your mouth, too. There's some lemon cleaner in the white cupboard. Use that."

"Damn that Makara-sensei..." I grab the food scraper and drag it across the plates on the counter to get rid of the dried-on eggs. "For an old lady, she sure has a big mouth." I turn on the tap and rinse them off one-by-one. I line them up on the wooden dish rack that hangs over the next sink. "Well, that's the last of them." I dry off my hands with a towel and toss it onto the counter. There had been so many to clean today; it makes me wonder what she eats during the time when I'm not around.

"Whatever the case, it was a real nuisance!" I drag myself out of the kitchen, massaging my sore wrists. "I probably have carpal tunnel now. Damn that Makara-sensei." Yawning, I sit down in front of the fireplace in the living room and stare up at the clock on the wall. "No wonder I'm so tired; it's two in the morning! Aw, that just means I'll have less time to sleep before training begins tomorrow." I groan, loudly.

"I thought the old woman told you not to complain."

"Well, I have the right t...! To..." I jump off the couch, landing dangerously close to the fire.

A man dressed from head to toe in black clothing stands in the corner of the room, but I can't see his face, as it is shrouded in darkness underneath his hood. I have reason to believe he also wears a mask; I catch a glimpse of pure white within the hood. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

"I'm no one special. You, on the other hand..." He chuckles. "You are something else."

"Are you a friend of Makara-sensei?" I ask. I bend my knees and put my hands out in front of me when he doesn't answer. "No, that's not right," I say. "Out of all the years I've lived and trained with Makara-sensei, she has not once brought anyone to her home."

"Quite perceptive of you, Miss Yamada," the man says with a slight nod.

"How do you know my last name?" I ask, my heart now pounding with nervousness.

"I know your first name as well," he answers. "I know many things about you. Care to test my knowledge?"

"If you aren't a friend of Makara-sensei's, and if I don't know you... then you are an enemy." I run at him with slight hesitation. He... he scares me.

Who is he? Why is he here? Why had he come? How does he know about me?

"I may have only known you as a child," he says, easily catching my fist. I gasp, when he pushes me into the couch with so much force that it tips over. I roll over the scattered cushions and onto the floor. My bad arm has twisted itself underneath my body, causing it to throb all over again. "But it is obvious that you still like to open that big mouth of yours."

"You bastards!" a shrill voice suddenly hollers from upstairs, followed by several groans, shouts, and skin-on-skin contact.

"Makara-sensei!" I wail.

"You'll be coming with me now," the masked man says, stalking over to me. Panting heavily, I try crawling backwards and away from him, only to have my path barred by the wall behind me. Reaching down, he grabs my upper arm before I can move away, and starts dragging me toward the front door.

"No!" I start screaming, and digging my heels into the floor, and latching onto the door frame, the closet handle, anything, to slow him down until my Sensei can save me.

We're nearly out the front door when she comes running through the doorway by the staircase, holding a small black knife that is covered in blood, her expression furled. Several other men tumble into view from behind her. I can't tell if they are dead, or not, but by the way their bodies are positioned, I'd say that they aren't conscious. She lunges for the man, who ducks out of the way to avoid having a knife driven through his masked head.

"Makara-sensei, what's going on?!" I demand shakily from the man's side. With a shout, she launches a kick toward his head, and his grip on me just slightly loosens. As hard as I can, I ram my elbow into his stomach, and my sensei rips me away from his side, placing me behind her. She limps backwards into the room, holding her chest, and pushing me back with her, back toward the fire. She starts panting, and turns her head away so that I can no longer see her face. "Makara-sensei?!"

"Just stay back, child," she says, reaching inside her robe, and grabbing another knife. "I will handle this."

"But, Sensei--!""Stay back."

With the same fierce determination that I've seen countless times before, she attacks. He is caught off-guard by her old lady speed and old lady strength, which is more than she's ever used on me, and thank goodness for it. She pushes him into the wall, fending off a long chain whipped at her with her knife. But suddenly, something doesn't seem right about her, and by that I'm referring to the solid black flame growing from the inner palm of her hand, that smothers the blade.

"So, after all this time, you can still use your chakra, old woman?" the man comments. He forces her back. "A generous attempt, really."

"Chakra?" I repeat. "What is chakra?"

"Nothing, my child," Makara-sensei says. "What an arrogant boy!" she guffaws. "It seems you still underestimate me." She drops the knives, and the flames dissipate. "You speak as though I actually lost it!"

"Eighteen years later, it's most certainly possible," the man argues. "Do you expect me to believe that you're still able to--""Yes, I do," Makara-sensei says, cutting across him.

"And now, since it is obvious that you feel contradicted by my words, I shall prove the meaning behind them!" Makara-sensei closes her eyes, and when they open, they are no longer a piercing black, but blood-red.

"Don't even bother," he says, sounding amused. He raises his head. His face is completely white.

"Sharingan."

I shriek when the man suddenly crumbles to the ground, and jump away when his body explodes into a white goop.

What... what just happened?!

I can't look away. I just can't stop looking. Makara-sensei, she... she just killed someone. She actually killed someone. I'm think I'm in shock. The white liquid starts to pool around my ankles, and my shoes are now stained with it.

"Why are you just sitting there, child?" Her eyes are as hot as the bitter air that emanates from the white goop. I never even realized I'd fallen over. But I've never been so afraid in my life. What was that she used? W-What was it called again?

"S-Sensei-""There's no time to explain, I'm afraid," she mutters. "I expect that they weren't the only ones who are on the scene. And at this rate, I can only imagine that the real one is on its way." She grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet. "They never counted on me being able to fight back, I suppose." Seeing as I'm still stuck in the previous moment, I'm unable to absorb or process anything. I can just barely hear her scolding me for being so lazy and standing by while she, an old lady, fought.

"I-I'm sorry." I let her lead me to the stairs by my wrist. I hadn't been paying much attention, so I assume that the soft object I end up stepping on is one of the men that Makara-sensei murdered.

"Hurry, child," she urges, "we don't have much time."

"What do you mean?" When we reach the top step, she pulls me down the hall and into her bedroom. Pushing me inside, she peeks out into the hall before shutting the door behind her. "Sensei, what is this all about? Why were those men here? Why did he try to take me?!"

"This is not the time," she says, dismissing my abundance of questions. "Sit there," she motions to the small chair in the corner of the room, "because there are some things I must give you, and knowledge I must share with you."

She walks over to her closet and slides the doors open. There are several boxes and at least five fluffy winter coats hanging up on the rack. The top shelf has even more boxes, but instead of carefully pulling them down, she grabs them and tosses them aside. She stands on the tips of her toes, trying to get to the far back.

"What is... that?" I ask. She pulls out a black shoulder bag, filled seemingly so that there is no more room inside.

"Inside this bag are items you shall use during your travels," she announces. My eyes widen.

"Travels?!" I exclaim.

"Yes. Now listen closely, and don't interrupt." She gives me a look, which warns me to hold my tongue and not speak again. "I'm sending you away from the mountains... and from the Hidden Snow Village."

I hold in my surprise. So many years in seclusion, and now, I'm finally able to leave this place of my own free will.

"But why all of a sudden?" I demand.

"I'm sending you to Konohagakure-- the Hidden Leaf Village. There, you are to give the letter in the blue envelope to a man called the Hokage. From that point on, he will keep you safe. There is a ticket inside this bag which you are to use when you approach the border between the Land of Lightning and the Land of Fire. It will be your permit to cross over onto their territory, to become an official citizen of the Land of Fire."

"But why?" I ask again. "Why are you sending me to the Land of Fire? What's going on?"

"I can't tell you," she says lowly. "It isn't safe here. When you arrive in the Hidden Leaf Village, I have written a letter for you. It is for your eyes only. You must promise me that you will not open it while you are in this land!"

"I-I promise." I'm almost positive that I hadn't sounded all that convincing. It is just too much for me to take in. I have to leave my home; the place where I had grown up; the place where I had trained. But what about Makara-sensei? Will she be able to survive without me? What a stupid question-- if she's capable of murder, I'm sure she's capable of doing dishes.

"I must confess," Makara reaches up and wipes her eyes with her thumb, "things won't be the same without you here, Kari. Even though I have taught you everything this old body had left to teach you, I feel that you still have much to learn."

"That's because I do," I say, taking the backpack from her lap. "That weird red eye-thing you did... what was that?" She only smiles. "You aren't going to tell me?"

"No, but I will give you this coat." She stands up again and turns to her closet. She pulls a medium-sized white coat from a wooden hanger and hands it to me. "I made this just for you. Inside that bag is a map, as well. As soon as you reach the gates in the village, use it."

There is a crashing sound from downstairs, followed by several pairs of hurried footsteps. Makara pulls me out of the chair and over to the window.

"Go." She slides a pane open. "Run and don't turn back, no matter what."

"But what about you?" I ask, stepping out onto the roof.

"I'm going to go play with our "guests"," she replies. "It's been a while since I've used my full abilities so I might be a little rusty. But they shouldn't be a problem for me."

"But...!"

"Training you has been my only purpose up until now, and it has been a privilege to have such a wonderful student." Several pairs of feet begin pounding up the stairs. To my surprise, Makara-sensei grabs my head, and kisses me on the forehead. She smiles. "Live on, Kari; live a beautiful life. Love, and protect your friends. That is my wish for you."

I can't cry. I won't cry. Crying just proves weakness in the heart, and I cannot show weakness to Makara-sensei-not now. And not ever.

"We will see each other again," Makara-sensei says, her expression pained. "I promise."

Updated January 1st, 2020 | 3,165 words